Out of Sight
by askalfendilaytonmod
Summary: A major case within Scotland Yard requires Lucy to embark on night shifts, dealing with criminals in its rawest form. Alfendi struggles to accept this change more than she, particularly when his fears may become an unwelcome reality. Finally reposted from my tumblr.
1. What's happening?

The first night, he didn't sleep.

He'd tried to, knowing that she would be worried if she returned only to find him in his current state; anxious, his mind buzzing with negative possibilities. She didn't need that additional burden on her, and his more prideful side didn't want her to know that it bothered him.

But it did. Alfendi lay alone in the bed – their bed – with a headache that would only be soothed by her return. His two sides had refused to give up control, each awaiting the moment where they might be needed. The constant swapping caused a never-ending throb to his mind that was only worsening the longer they continued.

It was only when he finally heard the door unlock that relief flooded through him.

Lucy's gentle footsteps entered the corridor outside, and he stayed motionless as he saw lights flicker on from another room. She at last slipped into theirs, and he heard her shuffle about for a moment, presumably to put on her fleecy pyjamas that suited both her and the cold weather perfectly. She slid next to him, nuzzling into his chest as she quickly fell into slumber.

After a minute, he took a careful hold of her wrist, kissing it gently. It was her; Lucy Baker was back, and she was real. He could feel her heart rate against his lips slightly; it was elevated, proving that it had been a rough night that she hadn't entirely recovered from.

But it brought him comfort to know that it was slowing. Concentrating on the small beats, he found a rhythm that he could sleep to.

The second night, he tossed and turned and didn't stay still until he heard her enter the house again, and he was immeasurably grateful that she was there.

He did his best to feign sleep, but her noisy movements after she'd entered their room told him she'd seen through his dismal attempts; she hadn't bothered to stay quiet.

Of course she knows, he thought to himself, unable to stop the tiniest smile from creeping onto his face.

He opened his arms when she was beside the bed, encasing her gently as her breathing filled the space between them, bringing life back into the room. His lips rested atop her head, and he stayed awake much longer, simply enjoying the calmness.

The third night, she didn't bother leaving the lights off when she came into their bedroom, and he decided it would be better for him to sit up, awaiting the discussion that would inevitably follow. He didn't want to have it.

They locked eyes for a moment, hers inexplicitly exhausted, his touched by relief to see her safe, and he drew her close to his chest as they lay down.

The much needed silence lasted for as long as Lucy could bear it. She finally turned around. "Al-"

"I know, and I'm sorry."

Her hand reached up to touch his face. "What's wrong?"

He sighed, the sound drawing out from his lips and remaining suspended for a long moment. "I am terrified."

"O' what?"

"Losing you." Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her further. She was warm, beautiful, and Lucy. "God, I don't want to lose you."

She was silent for a while, and he took the moments to breathe in. "Don't you trust me?" she asked.

"Trust has nothing to do with it. I've seen too many corpses not to be paranoid at the thought of you meddling with criminals alone. The Mystery Room is different; they're on our territory. But when you're out there, you're playing their game. I've seen it myself. I've experienced what happens."

He jumped slightly as her hand rested on his side, gently touching the scar that remained from his surgery after being shot. Despite the blurriness of his memories, he could recall the pain. It had torn through him as he lay there, convulsing and panicking, unable to breathe as he wondered if the heavy rain would pick him up and take him somewhere else, or if the blood seeping from his body would have the same effect. He'd soon fallen unconscious, but it wasn't a break; no, it was more terrifying. He hadn't known where he was in the darkness, who he was, whether he was safe, whether Justin and Hilda were safe, whether Makepeace had won.

Looking at Lucy then, nothing frightened him more than the idea of it happening to her; her limp body laying there, unable to hear anybody's calls. Scared, alone, and dying.

Her hand lingered on the scar for a moment longer before she reached up to give him a small kiss. "I know that you don't wan' the same to happen to me, Prof." The old nickname rolled off her tongue with ease. "I can't promise you that it won't. But you have to trust that I'll deal with any danger in th' best way I can. I'm not alone; I've got the Commissioner and others with me for mos' of the raids."

The kiss had been too brief. He begun another that lasted a little longer, and her arms pulled him closer, just as he'd hoped. "And as much as I respect the man, it's no secret he's decaying with age," he said, his lips resting against her ear and his voice uncontrollably bitter.

"Steady on." The exhale that followed her words told him she was too tired to argue.

But the two words were enough to keep him going, and he drew back, wanting to kiss her more but knowing it was not the time to. "I trust in your abilities, but I also trust in theirs. The things you face aren't pixels anymore, and like it or not, the crime reconstructions have hindered what you're capable of! I've told Placid a thousand times not to rely on it, but it's been years and we shouldn't be-"

She pressed two fingers against his mouth, and Potty forced himself to be silent. He was ruining this, all of it, but in that second he was fire. He didn't want to contain himself, but when he looked upon her tired face then, he knew that he would only harm her with what he was saying.

After struggling for a few seconds, he allowed his other side to come forth.

Lucy waited until Alfendi's hair faded to its paler state before responding. "I know they're not what I'm used to facing. It were terrifying, the first time we wen' out. I didn't know if I could continue." She shuffled closer towards him, her face next to his. "But it's gotten easier. The Mystery Room taught me 'ow to put together the pieces of evidence, now I jus' have t' do it while holdin' a gun. All this is a bit more manageable than it were. 'Sides, it won't be long until this case is all wrapped up, and they won't need me anymore."

The blasted drugs case that had taken most of Scotland Yard's manpower, forcing those who wouldn't usually be doing fieldwork into doing just that. Even his Placid side grew irritated just thinking about it; he had also been on the case not so long ago. It had only taken one raid for the Commissioner to take him off it.

He'd protested. Consistently for days, until the other man had snapped. "Do you want me to take you off work altogether?! When we're as understaffed as we are?"

Alfendi was startled; it was one of the only times he'd heard him yell.

"You enjoy this too much, Alfendi, and I'm not going to let that jeopardise anybody else. You're going to run in there one day, when the rest of us are trying to make a careful plan, just because you can't help yourself." Closing his eyes, the Commissioner sighed. "I'm sorry; I wish we could have you on the case, you know I do. But I saw enough danger in you that night to make me say no."

Casting aside the memory, he pressed a lighter kiss to her lips, drawing his attention back to her. "Yes… yes, you're right, I know you are. I suppose I just miss you." He never would have admitted it, not too long ago.

He caught her smile when she kissed him back, her hand welcome where it was resting on his chest. "An' I miss you too." She exhaled, her eyes closing. "But we migh' have to talk about this another time. And I'll tell you all about the criminal from tonight, you'll love 'im."

"I can't wait."

Though he could. Feeling her beside him was far better.

Then there was the night she'd arrived home early. The raid had been pleasantly successful; the criminals had chosen that night to relax and try their own products, and their weaponry had been scarce.

It had been mostly uneventful for the two of them. They'd spoken about her work, exchanged theories about the criminals' motives – Lucy was convinced there was something more, while Alfendi thought they were just eager for some easy money – and all the other little things they'd missed lately.

They ate dinner together for the first time in weeks. They sat together, the closeness comforting as they watched the news, and then a cheesy reality television show that came afterwards. They filled the empty space of their home with the laughter it had lacked previously, and the two felt warm.

Everything seemed to align.

It was only when they'd been lying silently in bed for a few minutes that Lucy suddenly turned around, her arms wrapping around Alfendi and pulling him in for a kiss, fevered and desperate. And he too gladly complied, holding her close and trailing his hands down her sides, sighing with contentment as he felt her soft pajamas begin to fall away, but even happier when the blasted garments disappeared altogether.

He'd missed this.

The night was contrasted entirely the next week.

For one of the first times since the whole mess had begun, Alfendi had managed to sleep without her, staying content with the knowledge she'd return. But when he opened his eyes to meet the red glowing of his alarm clock, the numbers 05:37 completely contradicting the half-empty bed, he froze.

Every fear she'd gradually made disappear returned to slap him in the face.  
He sprang out of bed, pulling on the clothes he'd neglected to put away the night before. Dressing, he fumbled for the phone in the darkness. His fingers had barely touched it when it began to ring.

"Hello?" he said, more loudly than intended.

"Inspector Lay-"

The Commissioner. Not the voice he'd wanted to hear. His throat wanted to close over as forced his words out. "What's happened?!"

"Please calm down."

That only increased the anxiety that had already begun eating him from the inside. His anger flared up further at the suggestion – no, order – but he fought hard to smother it and not break the phone at the same time.

He tried to breathe. It didn't work.

"What's happened?" he repeated after a moment, hoping the Commissioner would believe the pause had done him some good. It hadn't.

"We've arrested them."

"Fantastic." He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice. "You haven't called me at this hour share the happy news. Where's Lucy?"

Another pause that made him want to scream. "We don't know."

He tried to swallow. He couldn't.

"We… we lost her there. She saw that we hadn't arrested everybody; one of the primary contributors had escaped, the man most wanted in this whole affair. She went after him, but stopped responding on her radio soon afterwards. We didn't see her before we-"

"Before you what?" he snapped. His words sunk in. "You're no longer there?!"

"We needed to remand those arres-"

"You didn't need to do anything!" He swore under his breath. "How long ago was this?!"

The hesitation did not settle him. "Two hours ago. A team is still out there, and we thoroughly searched the area bef-"

It was all he needed to hear. He slammed the phone down, feeling the satisfying crack of the plastic – fuck, why couldn't it stay together? – as he scrambled up. The trembling of his fingers, which eventually found its way to his very core, forced him to stop buttoning his shirt, a ragged sob tearing past his lips and into the cold and empty room.

This, he realised, was his worst fear. He did not know how good a situation he could afford to expect.

It took him too long to pull himself up from the ground, clinging on to the vague hope that came with the fact that they hadn't heard any bad news, which meant she mightn't be lying dead in a ditch someplace, not yet. Taking his keys, he got into his car, fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

But where to go? He didn't know where their raid had been; he wasn't privy to that information after his first night on the case. He needed to be there, but he couldn't, so he only had one option.

Scotland Yard always seemed to remain vastly empty at night. Though many detectives worked overtime, the contrast from its usual bustling state was enough to make anybody feel uneasy. It was only the team that had been out that night who were present, minus Lucy. Alfendi found them all standing near the entrance, as though they were waiting not only for her, but for him as well. The sliver of hope he'd feebly clutched to slipped away when his eyes did not catch sight of her, and remained gone when he saw their faces. Despite their ultimate success that night, the men and women had been defeated.

He saw Commissioner Barton approach him from the corner of his eye. Aggressively, yet in a childlike manner, he refused to look at him.

"Alfendi-"

"Don't." He could feel the disgust welling up inside him and spilling out into his words. "As far as I'm concerned, you're to blame for this." He couldn't logically work out why – Lucy had wanted to help – however the rage that had built up within him would not subside and the Commissioner remained the one who was on the receiving end.

"You're speaking as though something bad has definitely occurred. That's not necessarily the case."

That was it, his breaking point. The chair beside him was kicked, skidding to a halt halfway across the room before it toppled over. He towered over the man in front of him, eyes blazing. Everybody turned to look, and silence coated the room as all quiet conversations ceased.

Nearly everybody at Scotland Yard had been a witness to one of Alfendi's episodes at some point, but they knew this time was different. They were usually over petty things, like a misplaced case file. What he might have lost then couldn't be recovered so easily, and meant a great deal more to him.

"Necessarily?" he hissed, grabbing the man by his collar. Most people stayed back, but he saw a few beginning to approach. He couldn't find it in himself to care. "Oh, fucking fantastic, I'm filled with faith. She can't possibly be at risk, without her radio near a man she chased blindly into the night who has been running circles around you lot for weeks. Nothing to fear. She can't possibly be-" He suddenly clammed up, a lump in his throat.

Even sarcastically, he couldn't bring himself to say it. He didn't receive a chance to, as two detectives suddenly had him pinned to the wall, and his fingers were torn from the Commissioner.

The Commissioner awaited the moment Alfendi finally looked at him before he spoke. "If you don't calm down, I'm going to have to place you under arrest. Nobody here has had a good night, Alfendi."

Potty forced his teeth together, clenching his fists tight as he groaned, using all of his willpower not to punch somebody. She wouldn't like that, she would be disappointed, and so would you. He tried to calm himself, but flickers of the situation's potential remained in his mind. As his fears continued to win over the current reality, he let out a frustrated hiss.

Finally, realising he had no choice, he forced himself out of his own body, allowing his calmer side to take control.

"Oh, God," Placid murmured as his head dropped down. The detectives let up him go, and he buried his face in his hands, falling into the closest chair that he hadn't sent flying.

As he continued to shake uncontrollably, he only knew one thing; he was coming undone.


	2. Clues

Alfendi remained rigid in the chair, falling in and out of various states.

The most prevalent was a deep panic, causing him to tremble and gasp and drown in the worst case scenarios. He couldn't stop the sound of a gunshot ringing in his ears, or get the image of trickling blood out of his mind. That was then followed by a forced calmness, his own desperation bringing him back to reality so he could try and form some kind of plan. Before he could string together any coherent thoughts however, the final stage would hit him; complete and utter oblivion. A thoughtless state he would reside in quietly until a sudden strike of panic brought him back to the first state, and the cycle would repeat.

One by one, the officers and inspectors left the building, some offering a few words of comfort for him when he seemed responsive. He couldn't bring himself to reply properly; only nodding. Of course I agree with them. Of course I hope for her safety as well.

The Commissioner was in constant contact with the team still there, his mutterings never too far away, always within earshot. As it just reached seven o'clock, he approached Alfendi, the other's head snapping up immediately.

"They've found her radio. It was approximately six minutes from the scene, if she'd been running. We'd had contact with her about two minutes prior, but only realised we'd lost contact three minutes after then."

Alfendi took in a sharp breath, the news forcing him to concentrate. There was room for a fight in those times, he knew there was. Why had she not contacted them as soon as she'd encountered trouble?

The likely answer made his stomach churn. She was taken unawares, harmed too quickly to do anything about it.

"Nothing else was found near there; no footprints, or any traces of blood. But-"

"The rain," Alfendi finished. "So there's no guarantee."

"No. There's not."

A heavy silence forced both men into their own thoughts, waiting for the other to say something. Alfendi knew there was only one thing left for him to do; his earlier condition had prevented it, but he felt himself returning to as normal a state as was possible. He couldn't remain here much longer. He needed to face the truth for himself.

"I want to see the scene," he said. "Please. Now the other case is closed, you have no right to restrict me from the information."

"I was never going to stop you from going there," the Commissioner replied. "You have every right to this investigation, though I hope as much as you that it won't become a proper case. You'll understand why I hadn't disclosed the location any earlier; I couldn't let you go in your previous condition. It wouldn't have been best for you."

Alfendi wished he could disagree, but he knew there would have been no use for his panic in a search party. He only nodded.

"I've contacted the police departments in any surrounding suburbs Lucy might have reached by now, if she has travelled consistently. They have people on the lookout, and they are monitoring their surveillance footage. I've also contacted any hospitals nearby, should anybody of Lucy's or the perpetrator's physical description be admitted. Because of these measures, I'm withdrawing the current search team now. They've scoured every part of the area they can and found nothing; they've been out for too long. They need time to rest."

"Right. Which allows me full reign of the scene, correct?"

"Correct. The second I can find somebody to join you, I'll send them over."

It was only then that Alfendi really noticed the dark circles under the Commissioner's eyes, along with the quietness of his voice. The man was worn out, but it hadn't stopped him from doing his best to ensure Lucy was okay. He felt a rush of appreciation. "Thank you, but I can assure you there's no need to hurry anybody. Most have had a rough night, yourself included. I think I'd rather handle this alone for now; a crowd is unlikely to be much use anyway."

He couldn't claim he was being selfless. Dealing with people he probably wouldn't like was always an unwelcomed task, particularly right then.

"Good luck, Alfendi. Contact me if you find anything, the standard procedures apply."

He hated that they would. Like it or not, both men knew the situation had already become a proper investigation; all they were lacking was an official case file and number.

—

Pulling up to the edge of the woods, Alfendi took a moment to stare at the trees before stepping out of his car. The area had been blocked off with yellow police tape, but it wouldn't have made a difference if it hadn't. There were no nearby villages, and it was too far off the main roads for somebody to stumble across it by accident. It wasn't known for its collection of wildlife either, which meant people were unlikely to come intentionally.

It made it the perfect place to centre a drugs operation. Alfendi found himself impressed with the thought that had gone into it; most criminals favoured convenience over all else. It also served to stress him further. If their operations had been as elaborate as this, than Lucy wasn't up against just anybody. Whoever she was out there with knew the ins and outs of being a criminal.

Stepping into the woods, he kept walking straight, just as he'd been told to. The forest wasn't too thick, but stretched out so far that he had no clue what actually lay ahead.

Had Lucy, when she'd chased the final man?

He eventually came to the hut that had been the base of their operations. Even from the outside, it smelt of tobacco smoke, and another kind of smoke that definitely wasn't from cigarettes. Climbing up the few steps, he peered inside, seeing the surprisingly modest dwellings. Aside from the smell, if somebody had managed to stumble across it when the occupants weren't home, nothing would have seemed unusual. Another smart move.

He could picture the heist clearly. They would have surrounded the hut, Lucy towards the back. Then they would have charged in from both entrances, catching them unawares. They'd learned from experience that announcing their arrival and attempting to negotiate was not successful for this group; they required the element of surprise. Lucy was the last to go in; that made her close to an entrance. She'd have been the only one to see somebody escape. She didn't have a choice; everybody else was busy.

Stepping away from the entrance, he looked back out to the forest, heading in the direction the Commissioner had indicted they'd found her radio. He took his time, examining things as he walked. The rain may have ruined any footprints on the ground, but it wouldn't have washed away items, had they been dropped. His search was in vain; nothing was there.

Finally, he came to a slight clearing, where a section of the ground had been taped over to form an x. It was where they'd found her radio.

Had there been a struggle here? Was that why she'd lost it? The radios were clipped to their collars all the time, unless they chose to remove them. Dropping it accidentally wasn't plausible.

Taking a few photos from his pocket that he'd been given before his departure, Alfendi flicked through them. There was a broad one of the scene, taken from afar. It showed him nothing of importance. Then there was a close up of the radio, in the state it had been found. He was about to move to the next photo, but stopped himself.

It had been upright.

Frowning, he studied it for a second longer. His hand delved into his pocket, reaching for his own radio, the same model as Lucy's. Bending down, he attempted to drop it so it wouldn't fall over immediately. It always toppled to the side.

"It was raining, too," he murmured. "It couldn't have been dropped in a way that kept it upright that whole time."

Curious, he leant down further to carefully peel away part of the tape. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. There was a slight hole in the ground; shallow, but wide enough to fit the radio comfortably.

"One of them did it intentionally," Placid murmured. "They took the time to make a hole just this size and jammed the radio inside to keep it upright. Yet the criminal had no reason to do that; if he wanted to separate her from her radio, he could have broken it and taken the remains with him so no evidence would be left behind. Leaving it in a hole makes no sense."

Potty suddenly laughed, his head hanging down helplessly. "Lucy, why did you do this, hm? What purpose did it serve?"

Standing up, he surveyed the area around them. It was a part of the woods where the trees were more widely spread, leaving an empty space. If a criminal was going to change directions, now was the best time, while they could make out what was ahead of them more easily. But the radio had been pointing upwards, where nothing but rainclouds would have been. He checked above him to be sure, but he was correct. There were only thick branches, nothing out of the ordinary.

Something caught his eye as he looked back down, however. He approached the tree in front of him, his hand running against the rough bark until he felt where it had fallen off, and there was only the smooth tree trunk.

But upon closer inspection, it hadn't fallen apart, because there was no fresh bark on the ground. It had been pulled physically, he was sure. A careful shape had been made, the edges as clean and careful as somebody could make them. What was left was a small arrow, pointing to his right.

"Lucy…" he murmured, frozen as he took it all in.

She'd done this. She'd done it because she'd known he'd understand; only him, not a criminal who might be tempted to follow if they too escaped. He gasped as he felt relief flood through him, throwing his head back into the weak sun, a rough laugh echoing around him.

This was why he had fallen so in love with her.

—-

"What grabs your attention, Prof?"

The question caused Placid to jump involuntarily, his eyes darting up from the newspaper quickly, growing wide.

Thankfully, as Lucy was engrossed in her own work, she hadn't noticed his reaction. 'Grabs his attention'? His mind immediately thought to a romantic setting, as though she was asking what type of person would catch his eye. He didn't know how to answer that, but he didn't feel he'd have to.

The way she'd asked it had been too casual. They'd never spoken on this topic before, so she shouldn't have sounded so… relaxed. He certainly wasn't.  
He could feel his other side's impatience with him growing, but was forced to clear his throat before he could reply, hoping not too much time had passed. "In what setting?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"A crime scene. You always see things that I don' take any notice of, as though they're the mos' obvious things in the world."

He fell back into calmness; crime was a topic far more suited to him. He knew a great deal more about it. "It comes with time, Lucy. Nobody is born with this ability, you have to learn it."

"Well, what are your tips on learnin'? I can't rely on you forever; I only just stumbled through the case Diane gave me."

Despite the darker topic, her voice remained cheerful, and he couldn't help but smile. Her optimism, he felt, had been a pleasant change in the routine of his life, though it exhausted him to no end occasionally.

Mulling over the question for a second, he could only think of one way to word his reply. "Look for what's out of the ordinary. Something that shouldn't be the way it is. Then try to work out why; who or what would have caused it to be that way? The victim? The criminal? Was it intentional, left as a message? Or an accident that becomes a vital clue to the whole affair?"

Placid felt himself slipping away, replaced by a completely enthusiastic Potty. He grinned widely. "As you ponder these, you'll understand more. Think of the case with Goldie Potsby-Mahn; the saucepan was out of the ordinary because she was not making dinner. It then lead us to wonder why it was out to begin with, but more importantly, why she was compelled to lie about its usage. The answer then was obvious."

"Makes sense, I s'pose." Still, she let out a sigh. "It's just 'ard to tell what's really a clue, and what's just a red herring, you know?"

Placid returned, giving her a softer smile. "Again, it comes with time. In the beginning of a case, you have to assume anything could be vital."

Lucy watched him for a moment before returning to her paperwork.

"Intentional…" he heard her murmur to herself after a few minutes of silence. "Not a lot of victims die straight away. Most 'ave time to leave some kind of clue, if they 'ad the strength."

"It could be as small as a knocked over glass of water. It needn't be the killer's name written in blood; they just need to use what they can."

Crossing her hands over her chest, she leaned back in her chair. "Just so long as it weren't mistaken for something normal, aye Prof?"

"Aye," he agreed, "exactly."

—

She sprinted through the trees, her feet feeling light as she avoided the roots that threatened to trip her while dodging the branches that nearly brought her to a stop. She was quiet, but still making too much noise for her liking. The man would probably know he was being followed, and she wasn't sure if he had a gun. In all likelihood, he would have.

Lucy could feel her heartbeat heavy in her ears as the blood rushed to her head. Soon, all noise altogether was drowned out, and she only concentrated on running as fast and silently as possible. One foot in front of the other, again and again and again.

Up until she'd started the raids, she'd never understood Alfendi's darker side entirely. She didn't know the true allure of criminals, the thrill of the final chase. She never thought she'd have the courage to do something like that herself; it would always be too dangerous, too risky. How could he enjoy it when his life might be cut short at any moment?

Yet, as she was nearing closer, she understood entirely. Adrenaline fuelled her movements, and she was so close to victory. For a crazed second, she almost wished he'd hurry up and face her, both their guns drawn, to create the perfect showdown.

"What've ya done to me, Prof," she muttered, unable to stop the smile from stretching across her lips.

She felt the rain begin to sprinkle down from the sky, and in another ten seconds it was pelting against her, covering her face and beginning to seep inside her uniform. She could hardly feel it. Lucy took the extra noise as an opportunity to contact the others again, her voice unlikely to travel far. She'd already turned off her torch to avoid detection; she wasn't going to let a whisper give her away.

Her thumb pressed against the button of her radio. "I'm still on his tail," she said, keeping up her pace. He was up ahead, barely a flicker in the shadows.

After a second of silence, she received a reply. "Be careful, Baker," she heard the Commissioner plead. "We'll be there the second we can; things are progressing more slowly than we'd like here. You don't have to make a direct arrest, just keep him in your sight, okay?"

"Got it."

She slowed up her pace as she saw the man do the same. She ducked behind a tree as she noticed he'd stopped for a breather, and as she peeked back she was glad of her choice; his eyes stared into the darkness, searching. Taking in deep breathes as quietly as she could, Lucy also took the chance to recover herself.

After a few seconds more, she checked him again, just as he slunk off to his right. His pace had slowed considerably.

She too crept forward. "Status update?" she whispered into the radio as the rain continued around her.

There was no reply.

She tried again. "Commissioner Barton? How are things going?"

Nothing.

Panic settled within her, her enthusiasm for the challenge diminishing. Was he alright? What if he'd been injured, along with the others? Did she need to head back immediately, before they were finished off altogether?

With those thoughts swirling in her mind, she unclipped her radio, biting her lip to stop an anguished sound from escaping. The lights had flickered off, and the screen was now blank.

"Now?" she hissed, resisting the urge to hit it against something. She fiddled with it for a few moments in attempt to fix it, but quickly gave up. If it wasn't working, it wasn't going to be fixed by her. She didn't have the knowledge needed to do so, not by a long shot.

Her stomach twisted with unease, and she knew she had an unfortunate decision to make. She could head back and inform the others what had happened, or she could go on ahead.

She looked around her, eyes wide with uncertainty. She'd concern them if they lost contact with her; maybe if she ran to get them, they could track down the last man together.

But they were still apprehending the rest of them. They weren't finished there, and by the time she returned with help, who knew where the last man would be? That thought alone gave her the answer.

This was dangerous. God, it was beyond dangerous. If she were back with the others and head about somebody in her position, she'd want to scold them for not following protocol. She'd be worried sick for them.

But she weren't the person for protocol to begin with. She'd never been.

Besides, she didn't have a choice, did she? They'd been fighting this gang for months; detectives and inspectors had pulled countless all-nighters in attempt to track them down, compromising their health and their lives for justice. They'd come so close, and this last man was the loose end. She couldn't allow him to get away, to ruin all the work others had put in to this operation.

It was going to end that night.

She closed her eyes, taking in an uneasy breath. She could do this, she just needed to be clever about it. She needed some way of letting everybody know she was okay, that she wasn't hurt. Yet.

Something out of the ordinary.

The first clue for them was obvious; she had a dead radio that wouldn't have been any good once she was too far from them anyway. Holding it in her hands, she turned it over a few times, leaning down to place it on the ground. She made sure the antenna was pointing towards the right, in the direction the man had gone.

She went to rise, but stopped herself. Something out of the ordinary. Something that couldn't be mistaken for an accident. This didn't fit the criteria. They might believe she'd dropped it, that there had been a struggle.

Without a second thought, she got down on her knees, scratching at the ground until the dirt pulled away. Jamming the radio in upright, she smiled.  
That was out of the ordinary. Somebody would know she had done it on purpose, that she was okay. If the first person to find it didn't understand, Alfendi would put it together, she knew he could. Her stomach twisted thinking about him. He'd been worried enough about her; she hoped for his sake that he'd understand her clue quickly, that his fears wouldn't be justified.

"I'll be fine," she murmured.

That alone wasn't enough. She needed to let them know which direction she was headed in, and quickly.

When the person found the radio, they'd examine the clearing thoroughly. Surely, in that time, they'd see the tree in front of them.

Use your surroundings.

Carefully, she pressed her torch close to the tree. She turned it on, glad to find that the light scarcely illuminated her surroundings. She hoped to God the other man was too far away to notice. She tried to carve into the tree with her fingernails, but the thick bark hardly had a scratch. She knew then to try something else.

With quick fingers, she pulled the bark from the tree altogether, forming a careful arrow that pointed to the right. Small, so it wouldn't be seen just by anybody, but big enough that it was noticeable to the right people. Without thinking, she shoved the bark in her pocket. It might come in handy later on.

Shivering slightly, she looked ahead of her into the darkness she would need to conquer in order to succeed. She gathered all the courage that had fallen from her before, and knew she couldn't delay any longer.

Slowly, she took her first steps.

His fingers resting against the tree lightly, Alfendi breathed in, relishing in the knowledge that Lucy Baker had been here, that she'd been alive and well. She'd known to leave them – or perhaps just him – a message, and he knew it wouldn't be the last one he'd see before he'd eventually catch up to her.

The world suddenly seemed a much better place.

"Thank you," he murmured, foolishly hoping the wind would pick up his words and carry them to her, just so she'd know that he was coming.


	3. OK

The day began to warm up around him, and it took Alfendi too long to acknowledge that staying where he was any longer would be a waste of time. While he'd managed to find Lucy's trail, he was far from finding her; he couldn't risk letting it go colder than it already was. The previous night's rain had been unforgiving; he hated to think that more clues, if they existed, may already be destroyed.

Both Placid and Potty forced themselves up, though for both, the desire to linger remained. Eyes sweeping over the scene one last time, Alfendi did his best to let go of it and move on.

By then, he'd nearly memorised every detail; the gentle hanging branches, the little beads of water that remained on some of the leaves. He didn't want to let a single detail slip from his mind; what lay in front of him was the most recent memory of Lucy Baker he currently possessed. As obscure as it might have been, it was keeping him sane.

Trudging through the woods, he allowed the sunlight to work its way through his layers of clothing, keeping him warm without being overbearing. Lucy would be feeling the sunlight too; she couldn't have gotten too far from where he was now.

He kept his eyes peeled for another sign, whether it was the same or different to the last she had left. He quickly noted that she'd decided to use the same trick more than once. Every so often, he'd come across yet another tiny marking littered among the trees that either pointed him ahead or urged to him to instead go in another direction. He did his best not to savour each one.

"It's not like me to be so damned sentimental," Potty growled as he pressed on, his own annoyance forcing him to travel more quickly.

Placid's reply wasn't quite a coherent one, only a nagging word at the back of his mind. Fear. Yes, that was it. Though the situation seemed a great deal better than it had mere hours ago, he still worried about what he would find ahead; it was one case he didn't want to see become more twisted. Part of him wished to stay in the places where he knew for sure that Lucy had been fine, to stay within that mindset.

It hadn't happened to him before.

For both Placid and Potty, the reality always won over any desired fantasies. Potty had never found the truth unwelcoming; difficult at times, but not something to be regretted. Regretting it would not change anything, only make it harder to endure. Placid, though more sympathetic towards the troubles the truth could cause to happen, felt the same way.

They could have regretted that Justin had chosen the path he did, but what would it have done? Nothing. Potty's jaw tightened as he considered it.

Regardless of how he felt about it, Justin had chosen Makepeace over them. Justin had let him be shot. Justin had manipulated him in his vulnerable state and forced him out of his own body for four years.

If there were anybody to feel regret in the situation, it should be him. Alfendi had nothing to feel about his actions anymore, only their outcome.

His current train of thought only served to irritate him. Bringing his mind back to the investigation, he knew that the same thing applied then; he could regret that Lucy had been called out of her usual work, regret that nobody else decided to chase down the man with her, but it didn't change the situation he was dealing with.

Like it or not, she was gone, and they were left to deal with the outcome.

—

Minutes of trailing the woods alone left him more deeply in his thoughts than he liked, so taking control, Placid decided that they should contact the Commissioner. The man deserved answers as much as he.

"Anything?" were the firsts words out of Barton's mouth. The lack of formalities told Alfendi clearly enough that it was a personal case for all involved.

"Lucy's left us some clues," Placid replied. "Clues to tell us that she's okay, and what direction they've headed in. I'm certain it's her, the culprit wouldn't have any reason to do what she has, and even if they were trying to lure one of us away, they wouldn't know the kinds of things we'd respond to. Lucy does."

At least, Alfendi thought, she knows what would make me follow.

"So far, there's nothing concerning. Up to the point I'm at, I think she was uninjured."

The sigh of relief from the other end of the line was impossible to miss. "I'm so pleased to hear it, Alfendi, I really am." The sharp edge of worry had suddenly softened from the other man's tone, and it was only then that Alfendi acknowledged how guilty he must have felt. "We have something to report on this end, too. We've examined Lucy's radio, and there was a technical issue; the wiring was poorly constructed. By the looks of it, it had stopped working before she'd gotten rid of it."

He found himself smiling. "I'm not surprised; that fits in with what I thought. She knew it would be a useful clue to let us know what happened; something disposable."

"It's good to know that things are matching up. We have nothing else to report here; we haven't been contacted by anybody regarding their whereabouts. I'd like to assume that this is a good thing, given she hasn't been admitted to hospital. Where are you now?"

Surprising himself in the position he was currently in, Potty laughed. "I haven't the foggiest, Commissioner. Nearing one edge of the woods… the west side, I'd presume. I'm just following the way Lucy has left; if she can get wherever she is on foot, so can I."

"I don't doubt it. But be careful, Alfendi. Take whatever precautions you have available to you, and keep us updated. While we've been gifted with good news so far, we can't lose track. You have your gun on you?"

"Obviously."

"I hope that it doesn't come to it, but I'm glad you'll have some means of defense. From what we know of the culprit, he's a dangerous man."

"I can't say I'd mind a little showdown, depending on what I find at the end of Lucy's little treasure hunt." Alfendi's voice had grown more bitter than intended, both sides in agreement.

"Be careful, Alfendi," the Commissioner warned once more.

Not even Placid could promise that he would, so he said nothing instead. The silence was far more fitting.

—-

Finally emerging from the woods, Alfendi stepped out onto the slightly spongy ground. Looking up, he saw hundreds of dazzling lights reflecting off a river in front of him, the water gently flowing downstream.

For a moment, he was blinded. The woods had been darker than he'd realised, and the sudden contrast hurt his eyes.

He moved forward slowly as he tried to scan the wide expanse in front of him. The river was narrow, and he could see the bottom of it, meaning it was relatively shallow. It was very possible that they could have crossed it, rather than walked alongside it. With that in mind, he'd need another clue.

He didn't have to look far.

After he'd gotten past the slightly muddy ground, the river was surrounded by smooth, grey pebbles. As such, the scattered brown pieces of bark, though underneath them partially, were clearly visible. Yet again, she'd been resourceful. She'd known the weather was a risk, so she'd done what she could to counter it. Regardless, he felt his heart rate increase as he approached; he didn't know what they meant, not yet.

Her situation could have changed immensely.

Carefully, he lifted the first few pebbles, realising that the bark had little brown specks against the pieces. Ignoring that for now, he examined the connections between the pieces, seeing that they made a circle. To the circle's right was another set of bark that revealed a second symbol.

"K… an O and a K. OK. Okay. That makes sense."

He felt relief begin to trickle inside him, but he tried to contain it when he noticed one last pebble.

His breath caught in his throat as he picked it up. The arrow pointing across the river underneath it almost went unnoticed to him as he rubbed his thumb across the more prominent brown marking on top of the pebble.

He had been in his job too long to believe it was mud. No; in the time between Lucy being here and him arriving, her blood had dried against the stone, becoming brown.

In that second, he felt the entire game change.

It was a cross. Why a cross? She'd done this intentionally, so what was she telling him? The answer came to him quickly; it was a medical cross, the kind he'd seen every day of his life on first aid kits, on hospital signs as he drove past them, on every damned thing he could think of relating to somebody needing help.

His mind began to race with the possibilities. He hadn't seen any blood on his way, but the rain could have easily washed it away; he wasn't about to conduct luminol testing on the entire path he'd taken. But if she'd been injured much earlier, than she'd have left a message similar to what she'd done here. A bloodstain on one of the trees that would likely remain until he found it, for example. She must have been hurt here.

But if there was a fight, one of them would have prevailed. The man would have known he was being followed and would have put an end to it; if not, then Lucy herself should have won. But she hadn't, because she wouldn't have written a symbol in the man's blood; she wouldn't even consider it. Even if both were well enough to have kept on going, Lucy wouldn't have spared the time to leave a message; she would have been in danger, focusing on something other than the man.

The uncertainties made his stomach twist. He could speculate all day long, but he would never know with absolute certainty what had happened until he found her again.

All he did know was that – however the blood had come about – the situation had become dire. She wasn't okay anymore, though her message might try to convince him otherwise.

—-

"Lucy-"

"I'm fine, Prof-"

"Please go home."

"You 'aven't been-"

Her sentence was cut off by her own yawn, and she rubbed her eyes gently before trying to speak again.

"You 'aven't been home in three days, you can't make me do a thing."

Placid fought back a small smile. "I doubt comparing yourself to me makes for the most effective argument."

"Ha ha." Lucy yawned again, looking up at him. "Don't make me go, Prof. I'm nearly there, I can feel it."

"We've made fantastic progress for this case, but one more day will hardly compromise the outcome." It was Potty who spoke then, his own words surprising him. All-nighters had always worked favourably for him, and he'd been willing to introduce Lucy into the world of strong coffee and dark, silent rooms, save for the gentle turn of a page every few minutes.

But she was already immersed too far into that world; she'd overworked herself, and though they'd made an impressive amount of connections in the case that day, their progress had slowed considerably in the past five hours. It was time to rest and try again the next day.

"Prof, anything could happen between now an' tomorrow," Lucy said, her voice strained. "God, though 'e returned one victim, what if there's another taken in th' night? Everyone walkin' the streets alone is in danger, you can't tell me they're not. We've gotta catch this guy."

Her words cut him sharply. I'm an idiot, Potty hissed to himself. You are too, Placid, we should have understood earlier.

"Diane Makepeace. Forbodium Castle." He stated the words simply.

Her head snapped up immediately. "Prof-" she started, but was quickly cut off.

"No, Lucy, I understand now," Potty interrupted. "I see why you're so invested in this, but you have to know that Diane was one of a kind; I've yet to see anybody who has come close to orchestrating the games she and her father did. Whatever anybody might go through in these kidnappings, I can assure you it won't be like what happened to either of us."

Lucy remained in the silence for a moment, before her quiet voice broke it. "That's the problem for me, Prof. Diane were only interested in her game o' revenge; she never meant to keep me locked up, though she were aiming to harm you. I knew from the beginning that I would be let out if I played along, but what about these victims? They migh' be put in a room like I were, but the culprit migh' not be willing for games. 'E might just want to keep them there, and I can think of nothing worse than being kept in a room like that one, without knowin' when – or if – I'd ever get out."

Lucy inhaled quickly after her spiel, and though she didn't seem any more upset, Placid could tell it had been a load on her mind. Somehow, the consequences of Lucy's ordeal had never occurred to him. It was partially due to how quickly the day had moved for the two of them. It was one ordeal after another, and by the end of them, he could only focus on Justin, and the truths that had emerged. Lucy herself mightn't have had time to seek the peace she needed; there were far more dire situations to deal with first.

Never had she given them any indication that she mightn't be faring okay, just as she hadn't in this case. I'm fine, I'm okay, I'm holding up alright, don't worry about me.

"Lucy," he said gently. "I understand, more than you might think. I hadn't thought about it much before this, but I know that I should have. I suppose I was too proud of you to have handled the task she gave you so brilliantly that I didn't consider the stressful conditions, among everything else. I'm sorry for that."

She gave him a wry smile. "'s okay, Prof, really. Honestly, I 'aven't thought much about it before this case. All this just makes me feel grateful that I got out alrigh', but I worry for the ones who won't."

He nodded. "There are other departments working on this case as well, Lucy. You don't have to feel personally responsible for its outcome; you already helped track the kidnapper down, pressuring him to release the first victim. Now that he knows the police are onto him, he's unlikely to try anything reckless."

In that second, he felt bold enough to place his hand gently on her shoulder. "You want to help, and that is natural. But you can't help if you haven't taken care of yourself. Don't follow my example of spending every waking moment in this office. It's not the healthiest habit to get into."

Lucy laughed lightly. "God, if I were to follow you in all your behaviours, Prof, I wouldn't survive."

"I'm surprised I'm not already the victim of several organ failures, with this disgusting diet." The softness of Alfendi's tone had disappeared completely, and Lucy laughed again.

"Potty, you've told me stories 'bout your unofficial undercover missions with the gangs o' London. It's a wonder you're still with us."

"It's because I have the wits to survive the environment. I used to have the physical strength, too, but not when the only thing shoved into my stomach is pizza."

"Steady on, Prof." Her voice was too tired to mean it seriously, and she yawned for the third time in their conversation.

At that point, he knew it was well and truly time for her to rest properly. In her own flat, instead of on the couch surrounded by case files. "Come on, Lucy, I'll take you home. You've earned a good night's sleep."

She opened her mouth to protest, but shut it when she felt another yawn coming on. Biting her lip, her eyes fluttered close for a moment before she finally gave in. "Okay, Prof."

After he dropped her off, he felt his own exhaustion creeping up on him. Heading back to his flat, the last feeling Alfendi had before he fell into sleep was a deep longing to ensure she was always going to be okay.

—-

Lucy clenched her teeth together, desperate to not allow an agonised sound to escape her. Out of sight from the man, she leant against a tree, panting as quietly as she could, her eyes screwing shut.

Idiot, she thought to herself as she gathered enough courage to look down at her hand. The moon gave off enough light for her to see the damage. She had a gash running down her palm, and the blood was already dripping on the ground uncontrollably.

She'd gotten cocky. She'd travelled too fast, thinking she could keep up with him while remaining silent. She'd become careless, not focusing on anything that lay ahead aside from him, and it hurt so much.

Thankfully, it wasn't too deep of a cut, she knew that, but she had nothing to fix it with, and she feared what might happen if she didn't get a chance to cover it up. It was bleeding an alarming amount, and she wanted to curse the jagged rock – or was it glass? – that she'd fallen on when her feet slipped on the muddy surface near the river.

Thank God she hadn't been any closer to the man, else he would have heard her fall. She could see the glinting metal of the gun in his hand in the distance; she didn't doubt he had good aim.

Lucy could feel herself sweating. She needed to clean out the wound as fast as possible, and the only way to do that was to go forward, into the river. Pressing her other hand against the wound, she stepped out and looked for the man again. By then he was only a small shadow in the distance, a shadow that, without a second thought, was wading through the river, successfully reaching the other side.

That surprised her. Surely he'd be apprehensive, given how cold the night had already become? She didn't like the thought of following him herself, but she paused when she considered the meaning behind his actions.

"'e's got a destination in mind," she murmured gently. "'e didn't stop to consider it or anything."

Where was a criminal supposed to go? His friends had all been arrested, and his business was at an end. But he had to head somewhere, right? Was there more to all this than they'd originally thought?

She didn't have enough time to consider it. There was another collection of trees on the other side of the river, and the second Lucy saw him step into them, she all but sprinted to the water. Shoving her hand into it, she fought back tears as she felt the iciness hit her, shivering violently.

She couldn't tell if she felt light headed because she had genuinely lost too much blood, or if she'd merely expected to feel that way. Either way, she felt colder, her jacket not enough to shield her from the freezing outside.

She needed help. Or at least, she needed whoever would find her to know that she was no longer completely safe. She didn't want to worry anybody – least of all Alfendi – but it couldn't be avoided. She needed them to be prepared.

Another clue was necessary. Without thinking she put her hand in her pocket, pulling out the bark she'd been taking with her since the beginning. She cursed herself lightly when she realised she'd smeared her blood all over them, but then decided it may prove useful.

Needing a simple yet effective message, she positioned the bark in the shape of an arrow that pointed across the river. Placing a pebble atop it, she decided on one last touch, so Alfendi would be certain she had done everything intentionally; a simple medical cross.

"Makes it obvious enough with th' blood," she muttered. The rain had stopped and the sky had cleared, so she doubted it would wash away before he got to it.

Looking at the pebbles, she pocketed a few, deciding it would be best to use them for whatever clue she'd next leave. That meant she should empty her pockets of the bark.

She gave Alfendi one last message. He wouldn't believe it, but he'd have to try.

She was okay.

Lucy thought that again as she washed her hand once more, wrapping the headband she'd used to keep her hair back around the wound tightly. She thought it as she threw her vest over to the other side of the river, along with her jumper, before wading through it, then forced herself to repeat it again when she reclothed, glad to not have ruined all her attire. She repeated it to herself over and over in the next hundred steps she took, too cold to think properly.

She'd have to be okay. It was her only choice.


	4. Faded

The second he heard the phone get picked up on the other end of the line, Alfendi's words refused to leave his mouth. They were stuck helplessly, unwilling to become actual sounds and instead forming a lump in his throat. Fighting through the tightness that he was experiencing, he finally forced them out, making a strangled noise.

"Something's happened."

The phone call to the Commissioner was, arguably, the most difficult part about the affair. Though he had initially blamed him for letting this happen, Alfendi knew that Lucy's disappearance had been equally as painful for him. Furthermore, admitting that things were definitely wrong out loud only served to consolidate the situation, making it inescapable.

He found himself leaning against a tree, his fingers impatiently drumming against the trunk as he averted his eyes from the riverbank. He'd already scoured the scene over and over; he was finding nothing, and it only served to make him feel ill.

"What's happened? Is she with you now?"

"No. No, she isn't, and that's the problem. She left blood on a pebble for me; she's telling me she was injured at this point. She crossed a river afterwards, so she'd have been utterly freezing. If she managed to get much further without being spotted, it would be a miracle."

Now that he had begun speaking, Alfendi couldn't stop. The words tumbled from his lips messily, his emotions taking a verbal form. "She shouldn't have done this, she should have waited! But she did exactly what I would have; she dove in head first, leaving petty clues as if they make up for her not being here. I taught her to do that. I encouraged it. I'm responsible for this."

"Deep breaths, Alfendi."

"I don't know where she is, and I'm afraid to find out. She could be dead."

The last word was cold and harsh, causing a physical shudder to go through him. He then noticed that he was trembling, his fingers struggling to keep the phone in his grip.

He had always been afraid for her, ever since he'd awoke in the early hours of the morning to find her missing. He was scared of the unknown, of not knowing. But what if the truth was worse?

What if Lucy Baker was dead?

He was only aware there had been a silence when the Commissioner broke it. "Alfendi, I can't promise you a thing. I wish that I could, but I can't. We both have to open ourselves to the possibility that she… she could be in real danger. No, after what you've told me, I'd say that's certain."

Alfendi took in a deep breath, and on the other end of the line he was certain that the Commissioner was doing the same before continuing.

"Whatever the outcome, however, we will take it as it comes. For now, you need to focus on what we do know. Go over the facts with me."

He deeply appreciated the man's ability to remain calm when he had to. Pushing his emotions aside, Alfendi did his best to undergo a more logical thought process as he considered the day's events. "Lucy seemed to have been injured when she reached this point. If she were injured prior, she'd have left a message; there were no signs of blood on any trees before this. She has also crossed river, and we can safely assume it was to pursue the perpetrator."

"Are there any signs of a struggle where you currently are?"

"Not that I can tell. That's strange to me; surely, if there had been one, one of them would have survived while the other did not? If that isn't the case, then both would be injured and they would have run after one another. She wouldn't have had time to leave a message."

"That tells me there wasn't a confrontation. Not at this point, at least."

A small trickle of relief made its way into him, subduing his anxiety slightly.

"We have reason to believe that the perpetrator was not aware that he was being followed," the Commissioner continued. "If he'd discovered her at this point, he wouldn't have left her alive intentionally. If he had attacked her and believed she was dead but she wasn't, she'd have been in no state to continue after him."

"She's stubborn."

"She's determined, but people have physical limits. If she had been grievously injured, she wouldn't have had the sense to leave you a message, not as neatly as this. While I do believe we are right in being concerned for her, I believe Lucy was okay; injured, but okay."

Was. While Alfendi's fears were fading, that word snapped him into action. He needed to continue. He needed to dispel the 'was' so he could find the 'is', knowing that she was safe right then and there.

"I need to go. I need to find her."

"Keep me updated, and good luck."

—-

Wading through the river when it was nearing midday was cold enough. Throwing his coat over to the other side in order to keep it dry, Alfendi clenched his teeth together as he first felt the water hit him. Lucy's determination was evident; to have done that in the middle of the night would have been far worse.

Getting to the other side, he grinned despite the chill as he saw her first clue almost immediately. Slipping his coat back on, he approached the grey pebble that stood out clearly against the green grass.

"Like Hansel and Gretel," he murmured, eyes scanning the ground ahead until he caught sight of another pebble in the distance.

Following this path was easier. Alfendi found himself running, not only in effort to warm himself up, but to see where he would be led as quickly as possible. As his steps echoed around him, only one thought did the same in his mind.

I'm close. I'm so close, I have to be nearing the end.

He didn't know how long it had been, but he was certain that Lucy would not have covered the ground as quickly as he was. How much faster was he going? Twice? Four times? Whichever, he knew he was gaining ground at an alarming rate. Despite his wishes, hope began to grow inside him.

As the trees began to thin out, he stopped for the first time. As the warmth began to fade from his core, he found the fatigue he'd successfully been ignoring pound into him with every beat of his heart. The world around him spun, and he found himself panting.

"This wouldn't happen if you let me eat well!" Potty managed to choke out, trying to focus on the ground in front of him despite the way it was twisting and spinning.

"Home cooking is ineffective. We'd spend too much of our time preparing meals and not enough actually catching criminals."

"We'd catch them far more effectively if we could actually keep pace!" Potty snapped, pushing Placid from his consciousness and taking control. This wasn't the time for this argument, but he took note of how he felt; utterly disgusting. Placid would pay for that later.

He took the moment to examine where he had ended up. He frowned slightly; research had told them that the woods had been secluded from any kind of township, but the buildings in front of him said otherwise.

"Have we really run so far?" he murmured, running a hand through his hair. "Or were the maps incorrect?"

It wasn't a big town; the population couldn't have been more than thirty people, when it had been in use. Now, the buildings we unmaintained, weeds growing around them and tin rooves rusting from neglect. The concrete paths were cracked and uneven. In the distance, Alfendi saw two rows of houses, but immediately in front of him was the section of the town dedicated to businesses.

"So, what did our man find interesting about this town, Lucy?" he asked aloud. "Perhaps we were wrong about finding their base earlier; is this where the drug ring was really operating?"

There was a long, peaceful moment as he considered the possibilities, scanning his surroundings. The panic didn't set in for him until he found himself pacing, his eyes frantically trying to take in every inch of the space around him.

There were no pebbles.

Placid pushed himself into control as Potty felt shock wash over him. "She might have run out," he reasoned. "There were only so many she could fit in her pockets, they lasted longer than I expected. She must have left us another kind of message."

But as they examined the sides of buildings for scratches or blood marks, there was nothing. As they re-entered the woods to back track, they found that they hadn't missed a thing.

Lucy had not left a clue, and it felt as though she no longer existed.

—-

It was supposed to be their first date.

Neither of them had really known what to expect when they'd decided on it. They were in each other's company so often that a date could have been as simple as deciding to get lunch together on their break, or – as Potty enthusiastically suggested – venturing out of the office to a particularly violent crime scene.

It was for this reason that they knew it would be better to break out of their usual routine, or else a date would hardly be worthwhile. Neither of them had work that day, so they'd meet up for dinner in the evening, seeing each other only as friends - or what could potentially develop - rather than co-workers. It wasn't anywhere extravagant, only a local restaurant that they'd both commented on briefly before. Afterwards, there was a fireworks show celebrating the Easter weekend that they'd planned on seeing.

They hadn't even made it to dinner. Both were called in by the Commissioner early that afternoon, required immediately to investigate the remains of a warehouse that had exploded a mere thirty minutes before.

Potty was surprised to find himself disappointed by everything that followed.

The day had consisted of frantic yelling and running as the threat of another bomb hung over their heads. The first had left three injured, despite not being inside the warehouse at the time. Between tense interrogations, the most serious they'd dealt with in a long time, of anybody who had any potential link, they scarcely had a moment to talk to each other. They only downed coffee after coffee to keep them alert.

At ten at night, they heard the first lot of fireworks go off. Both pretended they hadn't noticed them.

It was at four in the morning that the arrests were finally made. They left whichever officers remained to deal with the formal procedures; neither of them felt particularly inclined to.

Whatever emotions they should have been experiencing after such a victory were non-existent. All that was present was a quieter satisfaction, along with relief mingled with exhaustion.

Fatigue wasn't usually something that bothered him, but after everything Alfendi didn't trust himself to drive home. Lucy made no indication of moving either, and they both dazed in and out of consciousness in the half-hour that followed. Lucy's head rested against Alfendi's desk, and Alfendi leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed.

He soon started awake suddenly, the last cup of coffee unfortunately, not completely out of his system. It seemed to be trying to take effect now; not enough to allow him to function normally, but just enough to keep him conscious. It seemed Lucy was in the same position. She looked completely defeated, but her eyes were open, looking towards him.

He wondered if he should say anything, or perhaps if there would be anything he could say. Placid took a deep breath. "I'm sorry about this, Lucy," he muttered. "This isn't exactly how we'd planned the night."

She offered a small smile. "It's okay, Prof, it happens. Well, perhaps not like this, but we're not the first to have a date cancelled by something. You can't control th' crime o' London, though you might like to."

"One of us, at least," Potty commented. "Not on a permanent basis, though; I do enjoy the surprise."

Her gentle laugh brought a smile to his own lips. From the dim light of the lamp, he made out her hair; it was silkier than usual, as though she'd prepared for the evening in advanced.

He brought his hand forward, touching it lightly. Lucy seemed surprised, but continued to smile, and he allowed his fingers to bury themselves in it more deeply.

They stayed motionless for a few minutes, but she eventually looked up at him properly. "I'm kind of glad tonight didn't work out, Prof," she said quietly.

Despite the warm temperature of the room, he felt a cold rush go through him.

She hadn't wanted to go out with him. He couldn't ignore the stab he felt in his chest at her words, though he tried his best to.

It was alright, she had every right to say no. She'd been placed in a tough position when he'd asked her; had he pressured her? Perhaps their situation itself was inherent pressure. He was, technically, her employer, though he didn't like to think of himself as that.

Though he tried to reason with himself, the aching in his stomach caused by the new reality didn't lessen.

"Oh," he replied weakly. He stayed frozen for a moment before he hastily moved to withdraw his hand.

Realising what he must have thought, Lucy's eyes widened. "Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that!" Before he could move, she put her hand on his, leaving him motionless.

She tried to speak for a few seconds, fumbling with words that didn't quite portray what she wanted them to. "Jus'… this is more us, isn't it? We would have gone out tonigh' and been pretending, even a little. But the stressed, exhausted people we were today… that's the side we'll see most, isn't it? Here."

It made sense. Of course it did; they could go out for dates later, but the traditional methods of getting to know each other were irrelevant now. They had both seen the worst of each other today and months ago; they could be indirectly responsible for ending people's lives in every case they took on. They both knew each other more intimately than any conversation over dinner could allow.

So what if they'd missed a few steps? They could always retrace them later if they liked.

Even armed with this knowledge, however, moving forward in their relationship would be stepping into the unknown. There was a very real possibility of it ending poorly, of them discovering that the sides they thought they loved of each other weren't what they were looking for. They could never come back from that.

Looking at her then, he found he didn't mind.

Perhaps things would fall to pieces at some point in the future, but presently, everything fit so perfectly.

He leant forward, smiling at her. "You're right. But was the side – or sides – you saw of me today okay? Are they something you could live with?"

If anybody knew the challenges, it was her. But he had to ask.

There wasn't any hesitance. Lucy sat up, moving her wheelie chair closer to him. She knocked into him before dissolving into a fit of laughter as she wobbled. Doing the best he could in his own state, Alfendi tried to keep her upright, his arms reaching around her carefully.

The close proximity was the last piece of the puzzle. Lucy rested her head against his chest, allowing him to sit his chin atop her head. She wrapped her own arms around him, so close that she could hear his breathing; gentle and even.

"I'd 'ardly still be here if I couldn't," she whispered.

Those words almost felt as good as the gentle kiss that followed them.

—-

Her hand throbbed painfully in time with her footsteps, which had slowed considerably in the last few hours. Lucy tried to convince herself that it was because she could still see the man in front of her clearly enough and was trying to conserve her energy for when she'd need it, but she couldn't ignore the reality.

She was tired. Her mind had growth fuzzy and while the blood from her wound seemed to have slowed, the makeshift bandage wasn't good enough.

She hoped she could catch the man soon, but what if she couldn't? He had a destination in mind; perhaps he had help there, somebody who was also involved in the drugs operation. She didn't think she could take both of them down, not how she currently was.

Lucy noticed that the trees were thinning out to reveal some buildings in the distance. Instinctively moving behind a trunk, in case he looked back, she took a moment to consider her situation.

She needed to get in contact with everybody else. The stress of the situation had finally hit her; she was in the middle of nowhere, tracking a man who probably had more support than she'd initially realised. He had a gun, but so did she; the problem was that one of her hands had a large gash in it, making steadying it a trickier task.

On all accounts, he had the upper hand. What had initially been a rush, a longing to be the one who brought a case to its end, had turned into a threat.

Did Alfendi ever feel this way? He'd told her stories of the times he'd disobeyed orders for the thrill of it, confronting criminals in their most dangerous and raw form. He had always escaped with his life, but was there ever a time where he felt like she did? Where he wondered if he'd be unlucky and never return home?

She hadn't done what she had to impress him, she knew that. But she had to wonder how he would have fared in her place.

She'd followed the man because she'd needed to. If she didn't put an end to the case, another would come up, and another after that, each harder to solve than the last. Even though the outcome of everything terrified her, she couldn't throw everything away now. She just didn't want it all to be for nothing.

Trying to ignore the way the world was spinning, Lucy breathed in. Peering around the corner, she squinted as she examined the area in front of her. There were buildings up ahead, but though the sun had begun to rise, it only cast shadows upon them. Looking at the area around the buildings, she couldn't catch sight of him.

"'e must be in one of them."

It only served to confirm her suspicions. From the beginning, he had known where he had been headed. She was certain that this town, or what remained of it, had not been on the map. The only explanation was that he'd had previous business here, business that he was confident enough to return to despite running from the law.

"'e's definitely not alone," Lucy breathed.

That settled it. Going in alone would be too risky; she had done enough by finding her way here and leaving a path for somebody to follow. It was time to leave, to walk as far as she had to in order to get in contact with Scotland Yard.

With any luck, they would be able to organise an operation for later that day. They could put an end to everything before it started again.

Turning back to the forest, Lucy breathed in. If Alfendi had already found her first clues, perhaps she would meet him halfway. He would be able to contact the others, and-

Everything faded.


	5. Acting

She had been conscious for a while.

It felt like her body was taking longer to wake up than her mind. She tried to open her eyes, but couldn't quite do it. They felt sealed shut, and the rest of her body seemed to be content staying on the ground. Well, 'content' perhaps wasn't right, but it seemed unwilling to move, and she didn't have the strength to make it.

She tried to make sense of things, but Lucy only drifted in and out of nonsense thoughts, her head fuzzy and heavy. She attempted to focus on what was floating through her mind, but every time she tried to grab hold of a thought and concentrate, it slipped away and she was left with nothing.

Gradually, the indistinguishable thoughts were replaced with a dull headache that only seemed to make the world spin. Lucy knew she was lying down, knew she was not moving in any way, but it seemed very hard to believe that. Her stomach continued to lurch and she felt as though she may throw up.

Even in her state, she knew all of this only added up to one fact. She had been drugged and taken somewhere unfamiliar.

Panic began to flood through her, but her first instinct was to supress it. For the moment, she shoved aside what she was feeling to make room for her thoughts, which were slowly becoming clearer, though still messy.

Above everything else, she needed to survive. In order to do that, she couldn't let her attacker know she was awake. That was the first thing she'd been told in her training; in a hostage situation, don't seem like a threat. If she was thought to be awake, they'd keep a much closer eye on her.

She attempted to regulate her breathing, keeping it slow and steady, as she searched her memory for the events that had led to where she currently was. All she could remember was walking.

Lord, there were a lot of walking. Her legs ached from it.

No, that wasn't all. The pain shooting through her hand told her that something else had happened. A fight? A struggle? No, it had been an accident; she'd fallen on something sharp. Trying to move it slightly, she realised how much it hurt, her makeshift bandage uncomfortable and frankly, ineffective.

She'd been walking through trees, through the rain, through a river. She had travelled a long way to get here, wherever here was.

What had made her so desperate?

The case. The drugs bust. The man.

It took everything in Lucy's power not to gasp as all her memories seemed to come back at once, attacking her ruthlessly. The feelings she'd done her best to supress were released as she thought through each part of the night, remembering just how cold it had been and how worried she was by the end of it. It was becoming harder for her to stay calm.

The only thing she didn't recall was getting exactly where she was, which she supposed was indoors. Not knowing was the most terrifying part.

She must have been drugged before then.

I walked right where 'e wanted me. Shame flooded through her.

Still trying to regulate her breathing, and again trying not to let worry consume her, Lucy became more aware of her surroundings. She was laying down on what seemed to be a concrete floor, she knew that much, but what else? Listening out for any sounds, she tried to ascertain whether she was alone.

She couldn't hear footsteps or any other movement, not even breathing, but she didn't trust her senses just then. Definitely not enough to open her eyes, even if it were possible.

As for her personal situation, after moving her legs ever so slightly, Lucy realised that they were bound. Her arms were free, but she felt that, though she was wearing the same clothes she had been previously, her possessions had been taken away from her.

O' course. He'd 'ardly leave me my gun. She still felt sick to her stomach, both because of the drugs and the stress of the situation.

It was only then that she remembered what she'd left on her way. Carvings in trees, bark, pebbles… all to help Alfendi find her. She was certain he would have started on her trail by then.

Please be okay, she thought. Don't do anything stupid, like I did.

Lucy knew him too well to hope.

—-

Alfendi surmised that both Lucy and the man were still in the town.

He could not find any recent tyre marks, which was particularly relevant as the ground was muddy, and the town had no proper roads. Nobody had entered or left the town by any other means but walking; where they had gone was another question entirely. The rain, while it wouldn't have been heavy enough to wash away tyre marks, may have washed away footprints. There was nothing to be done about that.

But he doubted they'd left the town on foot. For one, he believed that Lucy was not conscious at that point; they couldn't possibly have dragged her with them far. Secondly, it had been a long night for them. Rest would have been necessary before they continued elsewhere.

As Alfendi had crept through the town, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings, he'd come across an old garage, the door slightly ajar. Pushing it open, he managed to peer inside. In it was a collection of old, rusted cars; however, there was an oddity among them.

A silver sports car sat at the front of the collection, and though it had been there a little while judging by the dust, it was still in use. It lacked the rust that every other vehicle had collected.

It belonged to somebody who could afford to spend good money on it, to somebody who was stupid enough to spend that much. This was a car meant for somebody who had so much money that the value of it had become intelligible to them.

There was no doubt in Alfendi's mind that the other occupant or occupants of this town were more culprits of the drugs case.

Peering inside the car, he couldn't see any personal possessions. That meant the culprit was staying in another building within the town.

Where they actually were remained another matter. The other buildings of the town were not as easy to get into as the garage, and pressing his ear against them, he couldn't hear any sounds coming from inside. If it were any other case, he'd have said that a fight had broken out to the detriment of all occupants. He didn't wish to believe that just then.

If she was alive – and he refused to consider anything else – then what would they do with her? They must know that she was with the Yard; there wasn't a chance that they weren't aware of this fact. They may try to extract information about the case from her, to see what they were up against.

Lucy wouldn't give it up. She was too loyal and too determined for that.

What they'd do after that… well, he honestly wasn't sure. Would they try to move her from the town? If this was where Lucy had been led, then it was the one place the man had known to go. He may try to evacuate now in fear that his privacy had been compromised, but the fact that he'd come straight here meant he had a good set up. Would he really leave it?

Alfendi doubted that. Ending Lucy's life before then would be the easier option. Whether or not he'd already taken the convenient way out was another matter.

He needed to act quickly.

The culprit would have to emerge from a building at some point, but Alfendi couldn't wait that long. For all he knew, the man might have enough food with him to last him a month; anything could happen to Lucy in that time. He would have to take matters into his own hands, if only to temporarily force him to come out from his hiding place.

There was only one way he could think of.

"You're not serious!" Placid stumbled backwards when Potty had spoken his idea aloud. "We can't… certainly not!"

"Do you have a better idea?" Potty hissed back, taking control again. "We don't know when he will next leave! We can't wait here any longer; we need to know where in the town they're hiding, and the only way to do that is to make them come out!"

It's too dangerous. If we don't know where they are, then there is no way we can do this safely. What if Lucy-

Potty spoke before Placid could finish. "It doesn't have to be a building. Look; all around us is dead grass. It would look like an accident if it was set ablaze, they wouldn't suspect a thing. Then we just have to take the higher ground and wait. The water systems look to be working; they'll be able to put it out. They'd have to before it spreads; some of the buildings here are wooden. It'll show us where they're hiding, and we might be able to get in there and get Lucy before they come back. Isn't that what you want?"

Argh… The weaker protest showed that Placid, despite himself, agreed. Please, be careful.

He managed to find a canister of fuel in the garage, alongside an empty alcohol bottle. Carefully, he began to spill it from the woods to about thirty feet from the township. Nobody would be in immediate danger, but they'd still have to act fast if they wanted the town to remain unharmed.

Placid shook as the weight of his actions hit him, but it was too late to change anything. He quickly located the highest building and, not without struggle, scrambled up along the side, passing the control back to Potty.

"If Justin can scale Forbodium Castle on ivy, then I can do this," Potty muttered as he inched closer and closer to the top. He had to stop every so often to give himself a breather and to steady his grip, but eventually, he made it.

Panting, he looked around him. He had a good view of the entire town, and he was confident that, if he was careful enough, the culprit would not spot him. Whether or not he would be able to climb back down quickly was another matter.

Before he put his plan into motion, Alfendi did one last thing.

"Commissioner Barton," he greeted formally.

"Any news?"

"You'll be interested to know that there's an abandoned town after the river, if you keep on in the direction I travelled for long enough."

He heard rustling on the other end of the line. "We weren't aware of this. The map doesn't have any indication that there are any towns."

"Perhaps it was meant to be destroyed and was taken off the maps before it was," Alfendi suggested. "It doesn't look like it has been used in a long time."

"It's a possibility. Have you seen anybody?"

"No, I haven't." He swallowed; neither side of him wanted to say what he had to next. "Commissioner, there are no more clues. I think that Lucy was incapacitated before she'd walked into the town itself, and is now being kept in one of the buildings."

The Commissioner didn't speak for a few seconds. "Alfendi, I'm sorry. Do you have any idea where she might be?"

"No, but I'm certain both she and the culprit are still in the town. There's a fancy sports car that's still in use in a garage, but no tyres marks in the ground, so no vehicles have left recently. He couldn't have taken her on foot, not after he'd already spent all of last night walking."

"This means we have a sure location. Brilliant work, Alfendi, you've done well to have come this far."

It was time for a little acting. He tried to put some urgency in his voice. "Oh, God."

"What's happened? Is it Lucy?"

"No, it's not her, but it's not good; I can see smoke near the forest next to the town."

"A fire?!"

"Are your ears for show, Commissioner?"

"It rained last night! How could this be possible?"

I knew this story wouldn't be believable, Placid said from within their mind.

"Well, it mustn't rain much here; the place is surrounded by dead grass! It would only take one lit cigarette to make this happen!" He was trying not to get defensive, but it was difficult. "Commissioner, I need back up as soon as you can get it to me. Finding Lucy and getting her out of here is our highest priority."

There was a small pause. "Alfendi," the Commissioner said quietly, "what have you-"

"There's no time to discuss anything else! The sooner you get people to my location, the sooner we can fix this mess! Hurry!"

Hanging up, Alfendi groaned, putting his head in his hands. Neither side was pleased with how the conversation had played out, and cursed themselves for not seeing the obvious hole in their story.

When the police arrived and examined the scene, they would be able to tell that it wasn't a natural fire. He could suggest that there had been a leak in a car's gasoline tank that had spread the fuel, but would they really believe that? This could cost him his rank as an inspector.

He was about to call the Commissioner back, but stopped himself.

Was he really that desperate to keep his rank that he would keep Lucy's life at risk?

We've come too far to think about the consequences. Potty was surprised to hear Placid's reasoning in his mind. We've told the Commissioner there is a fire, so now there has to be one. If we wait for the team to arrive, the perpetrators will take it as a purposeful threat rather than an accidental one. This is the only way we can surprise them without raising their suspicions.

"I never took you for a pyromaniac, Placid," Potty replied, grinning.

I couldn't care less about the fire. I just want Lucy back.

Potty could think of no snarky reply. He felt exactly the same way.

With a new determination, he filled the alcohol bottle with the last of the gasoline. Taking a dirty cloth he'd managed to salvage from the garage, he wet it slightly with the liquid before stuffing it in the bottle. Despite not being a smoker, it had become a habit of his to carry a lighter with him, should he need one.

With a well-practised movement of his thumb, Alfendi watched as the spark turned into flame. He lit the cloth, and, after making sure it was burning properly, threw it as hard as he could towards the woods. It landed neatly between the town and the trees.

The impact was instantaneous, a low boom sounding. Flames engulfed the grass quickly, being fuelled initially by the gasoline, but then catching on to more dead grass surrounding it. Despite the previous night's rain, it began to spread, slowly creeping closer and closer towards the town. Despite being some distance away, he could feel its heat.

No matter which building he was in, it would be impossible for the culprit to miss it.

Alfendi began to scan his surroundings, waiting for the panicked face that would soon reveal itself.

—–

The noise caused the ground beneath her to shake.

It had taken many hours of training to stop Lucy from flinching at the suddenness. She wasn't allowed to flinch. She was supposed to be unconscious, after all.

"Fuck, what was that?!" A man's voice, thick with exhaustion. Lucy heard him stumble to his feet; he must have just woken up.

She was now thankful that she hadn't opened her eyes or moved; she hadn't been alone this entire time.

"Do we have company?" A second voice, a female's. Hers was clearer.

"No, Briggs, that aint the police. They'd know we have a cop, they don't attack like that right from the start."

"I suggest you find the source of the commotion quickly, then."

Lucy heard hurried footsteps head upwards before they disappeared entirely. I mus' be in a multi-story building. Maybe even in a basement. Now that she considered it, the noise had seemed to come from above her; a basement was more likely.

Remaining still and quiet, her mind raced through the possibilities. The noise hadn't been natural, but was it the police that caused it, or a rivalling drug group that wanted to finish things so they could reclaim the business of the streets?

If it was the police, it had to be Alfendi. Nobody else would dare break procedure like that; attacking before any kind of attempted negotiation was unheard of. If it was a rivalling drug group, however… well, she hoped it was Alfendi.

Within a minute, hurried footsteps had come back down again. "Briggs, it's a fire near the woods," he explained quickly.

"A fire?!" The woman seemed alarmed. "That's… no, it's not possible." In the next second, she laughed sharply. "It rained last night, a fire couldn't have started naturally. It's the police, using it to find out where we are. I've got to hand it to them; it's a dirty trick to use. Not their usual style."

The silence that followed sent Lucy's heart plummeting to the ground.

Alfendi had tried, but it hadn't worked. What now? If they didn't go up and stop the fire because they didn't want to be seen, he would be in trouble too. She hoped he'd had an alternative plan, but knowing Potty's recklessness, she wasn't sure.

"It… i-it might not have been the police." That was the man, the man she must have followed out to the town. While he had seemed so intimidating when she'd seen him alone, he sounded so much more afraid now.

He's not in charge here.

"What?" The woman's voice was low and dangerous.

"I w-went for a smoke out there earlier. Area's covered in dead grass, it was a wh-while after the rain too. Thought I'd put it out, but-"

"You fucking imbecile, Carter!" Rapid footsteps, and suddenly, a choking noise. "Christ, first you get our entire team arrested by the police, and now you've set fire to the last safe place we had?! Is this a joke to you?!"

The clicking of a gun. Lucy couldn't breathe as she heard everything unfold.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't end your pathetic, replaceable life right now," she hissed.

Lord, the lass mus' be the real brains of the operation. She's the controlling one here for sure.

The man seemed to fumble for a moment before speaking. "Briggs, I-I'm sorry," he wheezed. "You c-can punish me later, but we've gotta put out this fire. You can't do it alone."

There was another silence before a sudden gasp as the man, presumably, was let go.

"Fine. Hurry up."

"What about the cop?" Carter asked, his voice slightly croaky. "We should t-take her with us, so she can't escape."

Another silence, and though her eyes remained closed, Lucy could feel people watching her.

"No," the woman named Briggs finally replied. "She's out cold; she didn't move when the noise sounded. She lost enough blood to make the drug I gave her more effective. Even if she was conscious, she would be no use threat to us, or any use fighting a fire. Leave her for now. I hope that you're a better fireman than you are a criminal, Carter."

Lucy did her best not to breathe out a sigh of relief.

Two sets of footsteps hurried upstairs. A door opened, then shut, then locked. For the first time, she was alone.

Lucy finally opened her eyes.


	6. It's really you

The room was not what she'd expected, though she hadn't known what to expect after her time in the darkness.

Lifting her head up, Lucy noticed a few things immediately; the grey couch in the corner, the small table with leftovers atop it, the tall pile of boxes at the other side of the room. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she began to make out other details; the box of cigarettes on the floor, the cash stashed in a bag in the corner, the large light globe hanging from the ceiling that, given the room had no windows, was the only reason she could see at all. The brightness felt artificial, and it only caused her to feel more trapped.

Her muscles ached terribly as she began to move. She sat upright and immediately tried to undo the rope around her ankles, but it was too tight. Added with the sharp pain in her hand, it was impossible for her to get free.

Looking down at her hand, she realised that her makeshift bandage was almost entirely soaked with blood, and she tried not to feel sick. Had the wound closed over enough to make moving safely possible, or was it going to reopen? How clean was it?

"I need to get outta here," she mumbled.

Using her other hand to push herself off the ground, Lucy slowly rose to her feet, swaying for a moment. Having her ankles bound made even standing difficult, not to mention that her head was still spinning. She tried to move and quickly stumbled, falling against the brick wall and yelping in pain as her side connected with the hard surface.

"Come on, Lucy, it's 'lright," she told herself. "They're not coming back anytime soon by the sounds, you don't 'ave to rush." She managed a smile when she thought about it. "Lord, that were one mighty fire he lit, weren't it?"

Pulling her thoughts back together, she used objects around the room to steady herself as she moved, trying to get her body used to the restrictive binding on her legs. Once she was feeling a bit more confident, she began to explore more thoroughly, jumping and shuffling from one place to the other.

The boxes, she wasn't surprised to find, were filled with drugs. What did surprise her was how packed full they were; it was more than she was expecting to see. She inspected the bag of money next, but quickly gave up counting. There was far too much there, but even without knowing the exact amount, she knew they were making a handsome profit indeed. She was certain they'd seized a lot of money from the raid last night as well.

Lucy felt her heart drop when she realised what it all meant. They really hadn't known how deep this operation went, had they? They hadn't been even close to finishing with their raid the night prior, despite months of preparation.

There wasn't much else to examine. Despite hearing them lock the door after they'd left, Lucy wanted to try it regardless, jumping up each step and only stumbling on the last one, causing her to fall against the wall.

Unfortunately, the door was sturdy enough that there was no breaking it down, particularly with her legs bound.

She groaned, sliding down even further. The suddenness of the act made her head spin, and she was struggling to focus again. All her movements seemed to catch up with her, and she felt a little sick.

As she lay there, despite the discomfort she felt herself being pulled into rest again. Her exhaustion hit her completely, and her eyes closed.

Come on, Alfendi.

—–

Alfendi sat and waited.

The flames slowly crept closer and closer towards the town, but they were far away enough that he wasn't concerned, not yet. He tried to ignore the fire itself and instead, he scanned the other buildings, waiting for some flicker of movement. He couldn't allow himself to miss it.

After approximately a minute, something caught his eye. A man's face appeared by a window of a building towards the back of the town, and as he stared out towards the fire, Alfendi saw him shout something. In the next second, he was gone.

"He's either getting something in the hopes of fleeing, or getting someone," Placid muttered. He kept his gazed fixed on that house, wondering what might happen next.

He received his answer minutes later. The door of the same building was thrown open, and the man emerged, quickly followed by a woman. He looked considerably shaken up, his black hair a mess. He had his hand on his throat as he ran, and even from far away Alfendi could see the mark upon it. He was certain that it hadn't been there before.

"She's not happy with you," he muttered. "Does she blame you for this fire?" That was good news, as far as his cover was concerned.

He turned his attention to the woman herself. She was of steady build, her black hair tied neatly up and out of her face, which held an icy expression as she viewed the impending destruction ahead. Under her belt he spotted two guns. Given the man also had a gun, he supposed that one of them was Lucy's.

That meant they'd definitely been in contact with her. He waited, wondering if Lucy herself would follow after them, but she did not. She had to be inside the building.

The fire was impressive, however he knew that didn't necessarily mean he had a lot of time. The two culprits might quickly decide that fighting it was futile, and instead decide to evacuate. They'd head back inside and gather essentials – like their money and products – and make their escape. He needed to get to the house before them.

Alfendi carefully used the window ledges to make his way down the side of the building. His arms shook as he climbed, but determination flooded through him and forced him to continue. Once he was successfully at the bottom, he glanced over at the scene. Thankfully, smoke had well and truly began to billow towards the town, enough to create a safe cover. He could barely see the man and woman in the distance.

There was nothing else to wait for. He took a deep breath – regretting it immediately after due to the smoke – and ran.

His footsteps seemed heavy and clumsy, and every step he took he feared would be his last. Thankfully, he reached the house quickly, and the lack of gunshots told him he'd done so without detection. He found that the door was unlocked, and he made his way inside.

It was a plain place, with only a few pieces of furniture left. The musty smell told him it had been abandoned a while ago, and that its current occupants weren't concerned about keeping it in order. Potty's experience with raids in the past taught him to be cautious, and, with his gun drawn, he made his way through the rooms quickly, ensuring he was alone. After circling the house twice, he was certain he was.

That begged the question of where Lucy was.

It was clear that the house was some kind of base from which the drug ring was operating. Even though it was in the middle of nowhere, Alfendi doubted they would keep things out in the open. There had to be something more to the building, something that wouldn't be seen immediately if somebody happened to stumble upon it.

After surveying it another time, he came across something interesting. Opening a cupboard, he found nothing inside, except the wall behind it was unlike the others of the house; it wasn't brick. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that it was another door.

His heart leapt. He placed his hand against it and spoke.

"Lucy?"

—–

She awoke with a start.

As the world came back into focus too slowly, Lucy remembered just where she was. She was horrified with herself. Had she been sleeping? She silently cursed as the world spun a little around her; she was certain just then that the drugs hadn't entirely worn off.

She scrambled to return to her position; sound meant she would no longer be alone, and she couldn't let Carter and Briggs know she'd searched the room. She hadn't seen them properly, but she knew they were both armed, and – particularly Briggs – dangerous.

Lucy stopped herself before the panic well and truly set in, her mind replaying the voice she'd heard. Slowly, she realised that it had been her name, and a voice she was familiar with. Her heart leapt when she realised who it belonged to.

Shuffling closer to the door, Lucy rested her hand against it. "Alfendi?" she called.

She could hear the sigh of relief from the other side. "Lucy!"

"It's really you," she murmured. For the first time in too long, she grinned. "You got my clues. You're livin' up to your name, Prof."

"Of course I got your clues. You were clever, Lucy, I wouldn't be able to stress that enough if I tried. You did so well." She could hear the pride and fondness in his voice, and it only made her want to see him, to hug him properly.

She could feel the door shake a little, and she knew what he was trying to do. "It's no use, Al, it's locked tight. I don't think you'd be able to kick it down, either."

"If you thought that would stop me from trying, you're wrong." That was Potty. "Move backwards."

Lucy did as she was told, and she heard his foot slam against the door, over and over again. The door shook, but she did not hear anything break.

"Not even a scratch," she heard him pant. "It's a tough door; that was clever of them. But how are you? Are you injured?!" His tone became more urgent.

She realised he must have remembered the blood on the pebble. It was no use lying to him. "M' hand's cut something bad, and my bandage is no good. I've been drugged too, they must've done that when I'd just reached the town, but it's wearing off. Still feel a might dizzy, though." She paused, remembering something. "Alfendi, did you light a fire?"

There was some hesitation in his answer. "I might have." That was Placid, the awkwardness showing through.

She couldn't help herself; she laughed. "O' course you did. That were Potty's idea, weren't it?"

Lucy could feel his smile on the other side of the door. "It was. And after everything they've done to you, I might just push them in it."

"Steady on," she warned, but she couldn't quite make her tone serious enough. "I'm just really glad you're here." She knew they had more pressing things to discuss, but this was important too. "It's… it's really good, hearing your voice." She was still worried about the day's outcome, but she felt better than before. Being in contact with somebody she loved and somebody she could trust meant so much, particularly after the isolating night.

"I'm just glad you're safe. I've been so worried, I thought-"

Alfendi stopped there, and she suspected it was to keep his composure. Lucy didn't blame him; she realised that this whole ordeal must have been terrifying for him, especially when she remembered how worried he'd been about things from the beginning. Having his worst fears become a reality… well, she couldn't even comprehend how that must have felt.

"I'm sorry, Alfendi. I never meant to worry anybody, especially not you, I just needed it all to end. The Yard deserved that much, I couldn't let 'im get away."

"Lucy, you have nothing to apologise for. Your dedication is incredible; I'm just glad you're alive. Have you discovered anything else?"

"Well, I'm in some kind of basement, at the top o' the stairs. They didn't discuss anything in front of me, but I had some time to snoop. There're a tonne of drugs here, and so much cash you wouldn't believe it. None of this were even close to being finished." She couldn't help but sound bitter.

"That's why you did all this, Lucy. To make sure it would be finished."

"What if all this has been for nothing?" she asked. "What if it's is beyond this little town, beyond England even? I can't stop something that big."

"If this is bigger than you thought, it will make what you've done here even more valuable. Knowing that there is more to something is the first step in stopping it." Alfendi paused for a moment. "You always see things through to the end Lucy, but-"

"Al-"

"-you don't have to do it alone," he continued. "We'll put an end to this before it gets any further. But today, we just need to survive together, and we will, I promise."

His words sparked some kind of hope and warmth within her, simply because she knew that it wasn't only Placid or Potty saying them; it was both.

Together, they could get out of this. This was just another case for them, another day at work. They'd beaten the odds before. Everything was stacked against them when they were at Forbodium Castle, but they'd worked together and found the answers they needed.

If anybody could get out of this and solve the mystery, it was them.

"I love you." They both said it at the same time, and pressed against the door, it was the closest she could get to being with him.

The silence could only last so long. "There's not a chance they'll put out that fire on their own; they'll probably come back here soon. You'd best get as far away from that door as possible, in case a fight breaks out."

"What'll you do?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll work it out. I need to assess the situation with my own eyes before deciding anything for certain."

"Alfendi, it's the woman, Briggs, who is in charge," Lucy told him urgently. Suddenly, time felt short, and there was too much to say. "It were the man, Carter, who I followed out here, but she's the real boss. She choked him earlier because he thought he might have started the fire. She's got a gun, too. Smart and dangerous, that one."

"She has two guns, actually; she's got yours as well. I spotted them coming out of the building earlier; it's a nasty mark she's given her partner. A lack of trust between them could work in our favour, though." He paused then. "I hear something. I have to go, Lucy. Stay safe; I'll see you soon."

"You too, Alfendi." She trusted him, but she also knew what he was up against. "Please, be careful."

"I will. I love you."

She smiled. "I love you too."

The disappearing footsteps told her he'd gone, and she shuffled down the stairs as quickly and calmly as she could. Lucy cast a final glance around the room to make sure everything was in order before she lay down again. Closing her eyes, she returned to the familiar sensation of waiting.

This time, however, her mind was sharp and ready for battle.

—–

Two voices. Two sets of footsteps.

Alfendi slipped away from the doorway, retreating to the kitchen. He'd noted earlier that the room was quite central in the house, and this would allow him to hear everything. It also gave him no shortage of escape options, if it came to that.

"We've brought ourselves some time," the woman – Briggs – said. "We're far from any other towns, but the smoke might get noticed and reported."

"What now, then?" Carter asked.

"We get the money and drugs, as much of it as well can, and get the hell out of here," Briggs replied sharply. "I'm not getting my cover blown because of your filthy smoking habit." She sounded stressed, and her voice had a harsh edge to it. "Move quickly."

The door to the basement opened. "And the cop?"

There was a slight pause. "We'll see," Briggs replied, her voice disappearing down the stairs. The door closed.

Alfendi waited for a few more seconds, considering his course of action. He hadn't heard the door lock, which meant he'd be able to get inside the basement. The risks associated were high, however; they could easily use Lucy as a hostage.

Still, he couldn't see any other way to apprehend them quickly. They hadn't decided Lucy's fate yet, which meant killing her was still an option to them. If he was to intervene, it had to be right then, while they were still moving down the stairs Lucy had mentioned earlier. That way, they mightn't be close enough to Lucy to use her against him, and he could take them unawares.

Currently, he couldn't think of any other way. Alfendi moved from the kitchen to the basement door, his footsteps light and his hand on his gun. Potty was about to throw it open, ready to face whatever he'd find behind it, before Placid cut through his thoughts.

Something's not right. This doesn't add up.

Instinct yelled at Potty to ignore him, to head inside that second because he could not waste any time. Placid held him back, now desperate to take control. He scrambled to get just an ounce of it, causing them to stagger away from the door.

Lucy walked into a trap last night! Are we really going to do the same? We're no use to her if we get caught too.

Potty fought to ignore him, eager to take the last second he had and open the damn door, but he froze. Placid was right; something was wrong. The numbers didn't add up.

Two footsteps had entered the house. Two voices had spoken, as well. Then why was it that just one set of footsteps had descended the stairs, despite the door closing?

We're not alone. He couldn't tell if he had thought that, or Placid.

He could feel somebody behind him.

Alfendi turned around, ready to fire, but the other's gun was at his head first.


	7. Light bulb moments

Carter smirked at him, tapping the barrel of his gun to Alfendi's head. "Friend of the cop downstairs, are you?"

Alfendi fixed his gaze on the man in front of him. The cold metal of the gun almost elicited a shudder from him, but he managed to suppress it. Now was not the time to show fear.

"Perhaps."

Carter tutted. "Pity. I'm sure she'd have loved to see you save her. Put your gun on the ground, now."

He wondered momentarily whether he'd have any chance of survival if he tried to resist. His odds didn't look good; his own gun felt clumsy in his hands, and it would only take one small movement of Carter's finger for his brains to be splattered all over the walls.

Still, as Alfendi knelt down and surrendered his weapon, he couldn't help but think that he was throwing away his only chance of getting himself and Lucy out of the town alive.

He was slammed against the door as Carter checked his pockets. His newspapers were thrown to the ground, much to the dismay of Placid, and Carter let out what was almost a laugh at his expression. He felt his pockets become a little lighter as his radio was taken out, and the other man tutted.

"You won't need this." With a swift movement, Carter crushed it against the wall.

Alfendi didn't lament the loss of his radio as much as the loss of his gun. Help was already on the way.

Carter must have been satisfied that he did not have any other weapons, because he stopped his search and turned Alfendi around to look at him. "I've gotta say, you're not dressed like a cop. Even if you are a cop, you're a strange one. Most cops don't light fires like you did."

While he mightn't have the upper hand physically, perhaps he could still position the situation in his favour. "I wonder how much your friend down there appreciated that," Potty commented. "Seems like she thought the fire was your fault. How's your neck?"

For a moment, Carter's expression was unreadable. Then, in the next instant, it darkened, and Alfendi felt the gun press against his temple harder. It was beginning to ache. "You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"You look more confident now than you did coming out to the fire," Potty continued. "It's her, isn't it? You work better alone. You're a threat when you're alone. With her, you're a dog on a leash."

"The hell you on about?" Carter hissed.

Potty grinned. He was beginning to get to the man, he could feel it. As long as he didn't push him over the limit, he may actually have a chance at winning this little battle. "There's a way we could both leave here happily, you know."

"How?" The desperation lacing Carter's voice was impossible to ignore, and music to Potty's ears.

"If you give me what I want, perhaps I could get rid of what you hate, officially or otherwise. Either way, I just need my gun."

Carter froze for a moment, and Alfendi couldn't even hear him breathing. He wondered what thoughts were running through the man's mind, and whether they would twist the situation in his favour or be his downfall.

The quick blow to his face gave him his answer. He winced, for a second unable to see anything but stars dancing underneath his eyelids. In the next few seconds the world came back into view, a little too sharply as the side of his head seared. He couldn't help but slump against the door.

Something hard dug into his hip. Fumbling for the source, he didn't find it before Carter hauled him to his feet.

"I'm not manipulated. Not by her, not by you."

As Carter opened the door to the basement, Alfendi was pushed downwards, just managing to catch a glimpse of Carter's shaken face.

He might not be on our side now, but I don't think he's with his partner, either, Placid thought.

There may be hope for us yet, Potty agreed, but beginning his descent, he couldn't quite believe it.

—

The door above opened. There was a pause for a few seconds, then a muffled voice before one set of footsteps drew closer. Lucy held her breath, trying to relax herself. If they thought she was still unconscious, then perhaps she could use that to her advantage and take them off guard.

But why is only one person 'ere? What happened to the other one?

She didn't have long to consider the question. The footsteps got louder and louder.

For just a moment, she hoped that it would be Alfendi, despite knowing it was impossible. The foot that collided with her side served to prove that.

Lucy couldn't remain still and quiet after that. She let out a gasp, curling up into a ball. Eyes shooting open, she found herself face to face with her captor.

As she feared, it was Briggs, not Carter. She knew that Briggs was the more dangerous of the two, and the icy glare she had on her face only made her believe it more. Somehow, seeing what her captor looked like made her more uneasy.

"Nice to see you're finally awake." The venom in her voice made her shiver.

She was certain that Briggs knew that she had been awake for a long time, but regardless she tried to feign innocence. Scrunching up her face and blinking, as if she were unaccustomed to the sudden light, Lucy only saw Briggs roll her eyes.

"The innocent act doesn't work with you."

She took Lucy by her collar, and despite her struggling she could do nothing to get free as she was dragged to the middle of the room. Having her head forced up, Lucy found herself looking up the stairs and to the door, and her heart immediately sank.

Covering the middle of the door was a blood mark. Looking down at her hand, she realised that her wound had reopened, dampening the makeshift bandage. She hadn't even noticed, among the rest of her body's aching.

"So what were you doing by that door while I was gone, hm? Talking to somebody, perhaps?"

"No." The answer stumbled out of her mouth too quickly. "No, I-"

Her hair was pulled back roughly, and she gasped at the suddenness. Made to look up again, the door remained closed, but she heard something thud against it. 'What was that?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," Briggs hissed. "Though, if you hear a gunshot, I'm sure that your pretty little head will be able to work it out."

Her heart in her mouth, Lucy stopped her struggling, desperate to hear what was going on above her. There was nothing but the occasional thud, but it was difficult to know for sure given how her ears were ringing. Time was moving too slowly.

No. Please, no.

Finally, she saw the door open. Her heart rose for a moment; there had been no gunshot. He was alive.

Yet, as a pair of red shoes descended, followed by a pair of black ones, her heart fell and all her relief turned to fear. Heat built up beneath her eyes as the world crumbled with each step he took. He was alive, but for how much longer?

Her careless mistake may have cost them everything.

—

Seeing that woman with her claws digging into Lucy's skull sent rage coursing through both sides of Alfendi. He clenched his teeth, staring at her as he descended.

She looked in bad shape. Skin pale, the flash of crimson on her bandaged hand was made all the more prominent. Shaking as she looked up at him, there was no relief in her eyes.

He realised how the situation must have seemed. He was furious, but not at her, never at her. Tearing his eyes away, he instead fixated on Briggs.

She looked far too pleased with the situation. She was going to regret that. He had no doubts that she had a calculating side – how could she not, as the brains behind an operation as big as this one? – but the situation had thrown her off. There was a fire raging outside. There were two cops in her basement. Victory was within her grasp, but she'd slip up, and Alfendi would make her pay when she did.

Carter shoved him down the last few steps, causing him to stumble into Lucy. He managed to stop himself before he actually crashed into her, but she jumped nonetheless. The situation had well and truly gotten the better of her.

"Al…" she muttered as Carter pushed him to the ground next to her. "Alfendi, I'm so sorry."

He felt something hard digging into his hip again. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he replied, his hand trying to find the source of the pain.

"I do. 'Sall my fault."

"No, it isn't." By instinct, he pushed himself up and pulled her into a tight embrace, smoothing her hair with his hand. In that moment, it was exactly what he needed, and he watched as her eyes closed and a look of peace fell onto her face. It was what she needed too.

Among the madness, there were a few precious seconds of quiet. When he realised what he was doing, it was too late.

"I was wrong. You two are definitely more than friends." The amusement in Carter's voice was impossible to ignore. "Explains a lot."

"It does," Briggs agreed. "You could lose your job for setting that fire, though that doesn't really matter to you, does it?"

His skin crawled as they spoke of the new information. If they were smart enough, there were no limits to what they could force him to do with Lucy's life hanging over his head. It was far too late to try to claim the situation was anything different to the truth, so he only held her more tightly.

Taking advantage of their distraction, he used his free hand to find the object that had dug into him earlier. Following the throbbing of his hip, he put his hand in his coat pocket, his fingers brushing against something smooth.

It was a pebble that Lucy had dropped. Carter mustn't have found it earlier when he patted him down, or if he had, he hadn't considered it a threat. Potty's mind was already turning over the possibilities.

Smashing somebody's skull if they got close enough to him was possible. Then, if he got their gun while they were down, he might be able to stop Carter or Briggs from shooting at him in retaliation.

Just as the thought flickered through his mind, he was grabbed from behind, his throat burning as he was dragged away from Lucy. He tried to breathe, but it was impossible, and his fingers scrambled to make space between his sweater and his neck.

As he was dumped against the wall, through the blotches in his vision he saw Lucy follow suit, placed just a few feet away from him. He could barely feel his legs being bound, trying to heave life back into his lungs, his breathing staggered and irregular.

When the world refocused around him, he grunted as he tried to move his legs, but they were trapped tightly together with some sort of material. From beside him, Lucy only smiled sadly.

"That's much better," Briggs said. She picked up the bag from the corner of the room, casting a glance at them both. "You know, it's a nice fire you've lit out there. Perhaps we'll return the favour and set this place alight, just before we leave."

"I'll do the honours," Carter weighed in, glaring at Alfendi. "This is one fire I'll be happy to be blamed for."

Potty couldn't help but detect the annoyance in his voice, not only directed at him, but at Briggs too. She didn't seem to notice as she surveyed them both.

He saw Lucy's hand extend towards his, and he gripped it as well as he could, given the pebble that sat in his palm. Out the corner of his eye, he saw her frown, though she wasn't looking at him either.

"Grab some gasoline from the shed," Briggs ordered. "I'm sure we've still got some left."

"Wait."

Lucy's voice was soft enough that it caught Briggs' attention. She turned towards her, smirking. "What is it? Do you want to plead your case? You're in the clutches of the criminal underworld now; we couldn't care less about how much you deserve to live."

"You really don't understand what you're doing, do you?"

As she spoke, Alfendi could feel Lucy's thumb running over the top of his hand, pressing against it uncomfortably. It forced his fingers to loosen from the pebble, and before he knew it, it was resting in her hand instead. The exchange was so nimble that he barely realised it occurred. He doubted that their captors would have either.

"Judging by that faraway look on your face, I doubt you do." Briggs approached Lucy, crouching down to meet her at eye level. "I understand perfectly well what I'm doing. I'm going to douse you both in gasoline and watch as you burn. I'll hear you scream. I'll see your skin melt off your bones. That's the last thing both of you will be able to process; the other in absolute agony."

The words didn't scare Alfendi. He focused on how close Briggs was, close enough that Lucy, with a calculated swipe, would be able to attack her with the pebble. Yet her hand remained in his, and she showed no signs of moving it.

He glanced at her, meeting her eyes for just a second. She wasn't going to do it.

Panic began to bite at him and he tried to take the pebble from her, pushing his fingers into her tightly enclosed hand. If he could get Briggs over to his side, perhaps he could-

The sharp look he received from Lucy made him cease.

Yes, she wasn't going it do it, because Lucy Baker was not a killer. Shame hit him hard for even considering the possibility, and for wanting it. But she was going to do something, and he had to trust her. The only thing he could do was trust her.

That's what he'd been doing all along. Trusting her clues, trusting that she was still alive, trusting that he'd see her at again.

"But what about your product?" Lucy asked. "Weren't that important to you? If you let this room burn with us, all of it will too. 'Ow much money would you lose from that?"

Briggs snorted. "We'd only need to take two boxes with us to be millionaires. Don't think you'll get out of this so easily. You should have begged instead; I might have kept you around a little longer for the entertainment." She turned around, looking towards Carter. "What are you still standing there for? Get the gasoline; we don't have time for your bullshit!"

As Carter moved to go up the stairs, his back turned as well, Lucy struck. She let go of Alfendi's hand, locking eyes with him for just a second. Then, like a snake, she lashed out, her arm coming up over her head and forward. The pebble hurtled away from her.

Alfendi's eyes followed it as it collided with the light bulb above them. As the glass shattered, pieces fell to the ground, darkness falling with them.


	8. Instinct

After the shards clattered to the ground there was a single second of silence, before a voice snatched it away. "No!"

Something crashed into his side before he could react, just as a gun went off. Skidding against the ground, the noise that formed in the back of his throat was lodged there as a hand was shoved over his mouth. Thrashing, he craned his head back to where he and Lucy had just been sprawled on the ground, unable to see anything.

Where is she?!

Gentle lips brushed the edge of his ear. "Prof." Not even a whisper.

Stopping, he exhaled through his nose. Lucy, it was Lucy. She'd pushed him out of the way, they weren't where their attackers expected them to be, and it meant that for the moment, they were safe. He smiled, and she dropped her hand in response.

"Untie us," she breathed.

Her injured hand was no good in this situation, so he'd have to work quickly. Starting with his own rope, it was clumsily tied and looser than his captors had intended. Fighting back a grunt, he pushed it down his legs and after removing his shoes, he slipped the rope off entirely.

Footsteps approached them.

"Carter, make sure that door is locked. They won't be leaving here alive." Briggs' voice was low, but Alfendi knew that she meant for them to hear her. A minute ago, it might have scared him. Right then, determination pulsing through him with every heartbeat, it only pushed him to work faster.

With steadier hands that had grown accustomed to the dark, he tugged at the rope around Lucy's legs. Tighter than his own had been, he couldn't get his fingers underneath it, and the knot was too complicated to figure out.

Briggs had reached their previous location, and he heard her boots kick the ground in her search for them.

Swallowing, he knew he didn't have anything sharp to cut Lucy free with, nor the time to search for something. They would have to proceed as they were, before the door was locked.

He dedicated a moment to listen. At the other end of the room, Carter's footsteps were slow and uncertain; he hadn't yet reached the stairs.

Briggs has stopped her search in the middle of the room, and luck was on their side when she searched her right next, as they remained safely in the left.

Clunk. Carter's first step upwards.

He hoped he was strong enough.

He didn't know which direction his shoe was thrown in, exactly, but if his memory of the room was correct, it should have been near a stack of boxes. A second after the shoe left his grasp, they tumbled downwards, and Briggs moved and fired.

Slipping out of their hiding spot, Lucy's was hoisted off the ground, her arms wrapped around his chest as he stood. He'd teased her for her short height before, but it made it easier to carry her.

"What is it?!"

"I've got them, Carter, just make sure the door is locked!"

The footsteps up the stairs quickened. Discarding his shoes meant they would make less noise, but Alfendi knew he had to be careful of the glass shards from the shattered lightbulb. Hand trailing against the wall as he used it as his guide, he came to a corner. Feeling it, he realised that he'd reached the stairs. He held onto Lucy's arms to steady her and quickly began his ascent, though the narrow staircase made staying silent challenging.

Another gunshot rang out behind them.

Counting both his steps and Carter's, he was desperate to catch up. Eight, One, two, nine, three, four, five, ten, six, seven, eleven, eight, nine…

Lucy's hold around him tightened, and he could feel the man's presence in front of him.

Alfendi shoved Carter against the wall and pushed a hand onto his mouth.

"Say a word, and you'll be thrown to the wolf below, do you understand?"

Though Carter struggled, he remained quiet.

"You didn't accept my offer of help before, but you don't have a choice anymore. I know you want out." He used a precious second to allow his whispered words to sink in. "Let us out of this room, and I can make that happen. It's her the police want, we couldn't care less about you. With my recommendation, you might even escape jail time, though we both know you deserve it. But if you try to signal to her, I will use you as human shield. Not very good for you, given she's trigger happy."

As he spoke, the struggling ceased, and Carter clung to every word, his breathing halted.

"Do we have a deal?" Alfendi hissed.

"I swear to God, if that door isn't locked by now, Carter," Briggs warned from below, firing another shot.

A second, then a nod.

Sucking in the slight amount of air around them, Alfendi slowly let his hand drop from Carter's mouth. "Convince her."

"I'm nearly done," Carter called, voice shaking. "Key's jamming."

"Useless." Below, Briggs kicked a box. "Where are you, dear officers? Already dead?"

They took two more steps, until they were at the door.

"Briggs, I think I hear somebody outside," Carter called. "I'll check it out."

"It's nothing." Another box toppled. "Lock the door."

"What if they called for help?" Carter replied, the shake in his voice returning. "I'll be back in one second. Besides, you've already shot them by now, right? You've fired loads."

The reply appeared to irk her, as an irritated sigh followed. "Be quick."

Hope wriggled to the centre of his chest.

Carter pushed on the door, and it began to move. A slit of light entered the room, growing larger. He caught sight of the bland furnishings of the house.

Bang.

He heard the steps behind them before he felt the burning across his ear.

"Got you."

His head snapped backwards, and the illumination from the outside world revealed Briggs, eyes blazing. Before they could move she'd grabbed hold of Lucy, yanking them backwards. Gasping, he clung to Lucy's arm in effort to steady them, and blinded by the pain he crashed against the wall.

"Ngh!"

The wall became sticky. His hand, beyond his control, reached up to feel his ear, which stung in response. She'd shot him.

Shaking, he managed to look up. Lucy was staring at him, understanding what had just happened.

Briggs wore a satisfied smirk on her face, pointing her gun directly at them. "Nicely played," she panted. "You really are just so clever, aren't you? This ends now."

"Briggs, stop."

Alfendi forced his head upwards, locking eyes with Carter for a second.

"You're right, let's end it. Let's take a box of product and get the hell out of here. Done. Finished."

Briggs tutted. "These two have just proven their determination, haven't they? They'll track us down. They'll kill you the second you turn your back."

"I didn't join you to become an assassin," he spat back. "Or an abused watch dog."

"And yet here you are, your tail between your legs. I should never have bothered with you." One step forward. "I assure you that we're leaving, but not with these two alive."

"No."

Alfendi blinked, and Carter's gun was drawn and pointed at Briggs.

Expression darkening, Briggs kept her gun pointed at Lucy and him, but her focus was on Carter. "Drop it."

"You first. You're outnumbered."

"You're betting on the wrong people."

"I want out, Briggs!"

"You're in too deep for that, don't you think?"

"You're not." Straightening up, while being careful not to make any sudden moves, Lucy focused on Carter. "If you let her win, you're done for. She knows that you don't want to do this, and she'll get rid of you the second she can. And do you think the Yard would let this go? They won't stop 'til you're rotting int' most horrible prison we've got. But whatever you've done int' past, helping us will nearly erase it. Do the right thing."

"She's lying."

Carter stood motionless, eyes locked on Lucy. They flickered back to Briggs, and Alfendi saw him adjust his grip on the gun, his finger moving to the trigger.

Briggs got there first. Red erupted from Carter's chest, and he gasped, falling against the door and shoving it open.

He was beyond thought now. There was only instinct. Before Carter's gun could clatter to the ground, Alfendi snatched it. Briggs' eyes narrowed.

"We're leaving now," Alfendi announced, moving to Lucy. His words were slurred, the pain in his ear eclipsing all else. "Thank you for the hospitality."

"Move, and I'll shoot her."

"You can't."

Briggs hesitated a second, confused. "Idiot girl. Would you like a demonstration?"

"Your pistol is too small f' that," Lucy replied. "I know that model. How many bullets did you waste when you searched for us? I counted six."

A flicker of fear crossed Brigg's face, and when she pulled the trigger, nothing happened.

Relief coursed through him. Alfendi took a step backwards, helping Lucy up. He motioned for her to walk out first, and as she turned away…

Movement. An outstretched hand.

Instinct.

He leaped in front of it.

And all he saw was Lucy's back as fingers wrapped around his collar, yanking him downwards before the chaos faded to black.


	9. One final clue

He fell, but so did Briggs.

He couldn't count the number of steps he hit on the way down, but when he skidded to a stop his body both begged him to remain still and screamed at him to move. With Briggs' grip firmly on his collar, he scrambled to break free. As his fingers pried at the front of his sweater, through the panic he realised one certainty.

He'd dropped Carter's gun in the fall.

With a grunt he broke free, scrambling forward. His right arm slammed against the ground to steady himself and pain shot through him, as though he'd been electrified. He brought it close to his face. Glass shards – the ones from the light Lucy had shattered – were embedded in his skin, beads of blood forming at the edges of each piece.

Taking advantage of his shock, fingernails dug into his wounded arm and dragged him backwards.

Warmth trickled down his neck, and the pain in his ear was growing, blurring his thoughts. Now that his body had stopped moving – rooted in the centre of the room – he didn't know that he would be able to again. The darkness at the edges of his vision called for him to succumb to it.

Turning to meet Briggs' eyes, she was shaken by the fall, but had the upper hand, not as beaten and bruised as he. He dared to look up at Lucy.

At the top of the stairs with Carter's body at her feet, she stared at the scene below, stunned. In the next second, she placed her hands on the walls enclosing her, moving to come down.

"Don't." His voice came out weaker than he thought it would. "Lucy, go!"

She scrunched up her face. "Alfendi-"

"Please, Lucy, while you ca-"

"She's not going anywhere," Briggs gasped. She thrust her head up to Lucy, glaring. "Do you hear me? If you move a single step, I will kill him. I may not have my gun, but don't for a second think I'm weak without it."

Pushing the pieces of glass deeper as she dug in her nails, it took everything he had not to scream.

"Don't listen to her, just-"

"Stop it, Alfendi!"

Lucy's voice pierced the room. As he stared up at her, he saw something in her eyes, a silent plea beyond her words.

"I'm not leaving, not when there's a gleam o' hope that we'll get out o' here together, and we'll look back at all of this and it'll just be 'nother case we solved together."

She looked just beyond his head for a second, then locked eyes with him again, and he understood.

One final clue.

Turning to face Briggs, her hair was strewn across her face, eyes wide. Something gleamed behind her as it rested atop a pile of boxes, and both excitement and terror passed through him.

Had she forgotten about it, amongst all else?

"Okay?" Lucy asked. "Do you understand me?"

He gave the smallest nod he could.

"Please, l-let her go," Alfendi begged, bringing his attention to Briggs. He needed to be desperate, and he knew he already was. "You can use me as a hostage, you don't need two of us."

"Don't try to negotiate with me," she spat.

"I've b-been with the Yard longer, I'm more valuable to you than she is. She can t-tell the police about how dangerous you are, and that they need to take your demands seriously. Having her vouch for you will be invaluable. S-Seeing what you've already done to her will make them take you seriously."

She opened her mouth to snap back, but he watched her hesitate.

Just a bit more.

"I'll co-operate with you. I'll get away from the door, see?"

Aching, he began to move backwards.

"Keep on your knees," she snarled, letting go of his arm.

"Okay, I can do that," he said, edging towards the back of the room. Glass shards littered the floor.

She glanced up at Lucy. "And you better not move an inch, got it?"

Lucy nodded.

He kept eye contact with Briggs, but focused on the gleaming just behind her. He was close, nearly close enough to reach out and grab it. But Briggs was staring at him, and she was closer to it than he. With his slow body, he could not risk taking it now.

"B-Briggs."

Her head snapped up, and for a second, so did his. Carter's eyes were open, staring into nothing, face so pale that he might already have been dead.

It was his chance.

Alfendi lunged for Lucy's gun and Briggs lunged for him. She was faster.

He slammed to his side, the wind knocked out of him. Pain was shooting up his arm, and when he tried to push himself upright, he found more glass by his hand. Forcing his head up to look at Briggs, she had spotted the gun. Her eyes widened.

Instinct.

She gripped the gun in the same moment he gripped the shards. Fighting through the pain as they dug into his palm, he threw them forward.

Recoiling, Briggs gasped, her hands covering her eyes. Silence lingered in the air for a second, until she began to scream, blood slipping through her fingers.

Groaning, he fought through his own pain, stumbling towards the gun. Clenching it, he stared at Briggs – still in anguish, no longer the threat she'd been mere seconds before – then turned towards the stairs.

Lucy was kneeling next to Carter, eyes closed. "W-We need t'go," she murmured, barely audible.

His body moving out of his control, he took the first step upwards, then the next. The world spun.

Focus, Layton.

He drew closer to Lucy, swimming in and out of his vision. He used the wall to stabilise himself a moment before they nodded to one another.

"Don't you dare leave!" Briggs shrieked. A barrage of threats followed, each more frantic than the last.

Wordless, they moved Carter across the doorway as carefully as they could – Alfendi holding his legs, Lucy his arms. When the door slammed behind them, Briggs' screaming became distant, tucked away in the back of his pounding mind.

Lowering Carter to the ground, he and Lucy leaned against the door, exchanging a wary glance. He gave himself a few seconds of peace before duty made him move. With shaking footsteps he approached the exit, before he felt something clutch his leg.

"D-Don't leave m-me," Carter begged. "Please."

"We won't," Lucy promised, and she looked at him with more kindness than Alfendi ever could, given Carter was the reason she'd been placed in harm's way. "But we need t'get help."

"It's on the way," Alfendi said, though his voice didn't sound like his own. He continued to walk, Carter's hand slipping away.

Reaching the door, he nudged it open. The wave of heat that pushed against him forced him to recoil. The fire had gotten closer, the flames licking at nearby buildings and blackening their exterior, but far away enough that they were not in immediate danger.

With that thought echoing in his mind, he crumpled to his feet, barely feeling the impact of the ground.

* * *

There was nothing for a minute, or an hour, or perhaps it was no time at all. Then, all of a sudden, there was everything.

"Alfendi!" Lucy's hands held the sides of his face, her breathing laboured and ghosting against his skin. "Prof, can y'hear me?"

"Lucy…" He reached out to grab hold of her wrist, but his body seemed too far away for him to know whether he had.

"Hang in there, okay?" Her voice was urgent, but he could feel that she was trying to keep calm. Pressure was applied to his ear, and he willed himself to concentrate, to see her. Slowly, she came into his vision. Face pale with injury and eyes blazing with determination, he'd never been as in love with her as he was in that moment

He tried to sit himself upright, but his body didn't comply. With gentle hands, Lucy pushed him back down. "Rest up."

"L-Lucy, I came here to help you," he said, trying again.

"You've done that, Prof." she murmured, smoothing his hair back. "Without you, I'd still be down there. And I were the one who got us into this mess t'begin with." Casting her eyes downward, he could nonetheless spot the guilt in them. "Now you're hurt, and that's m'fault."

"You didn't choose for Carter to escape th-the raid, and you didn't choose for your r-radio to stop working," he replied, the words difficult to get out. "None of this is your fault. S-See this fire around us?"

"You did a right good job with it," she said, a smile at the corner of her lips.

"It's their entire drug e-empire burning down, and i-it's because of you."

She laughed, the sweetest sound he could have heard, and leaned down to kiss him. He could barely feel it, but knowing she was there was all he cared about.

Staying close to him, she was checking his arm when he felt her freeze. "D'you hear that?" she breathed. "Sirens."

Amongst the roaring of the fire he could: gently at first, but growing louder by the second.

In a matter of minutes, they were surrounded by medics and police officers, and Lucy was gone. He was given something for the pain, and the clarity he'd fought so hard to maintain faded. In his state, he observed the world rushing around him, like a dream where every thought was swallowed by the next.

His younger self may have been thrilled by the town ravaged by flames, a fitting end to the turbulent case. Perhaps a few years ago he'd have been delighted by the sight of Briggs being dragged from the house, blood running down her face and fated for a life of incarceration. Even seeing Carter – though he had ultimately helped them – with far worse injuries than his might have been satisfying.

But he'd always remember craning his head to see Lucy, her injuries being tended to at last, and how she was looking through the crowd to get a glimpse of him too, finally within each other's sight.


	10. Always

Being an inspector of Scotland Yard carried a few perks.

Certainly not the pay – both Alfendi and his bank account could attest to that with confidence. Not the long working hours either, though neither side of him had ever minded that part of the job.

The freedom one gained after the tedious climb up the ranks was incomparable. Alfendi was in the fortunate position where he wielded enough influence for people to actually listen to him, yet was shielded enough from the public that most of his wrongdoings would go unnoticed by the media. The fire raging in the town might be a different matter, but it was the least of his worries for the moment.

However, as he was wheeled through the hospital on a stretcher, he knew that the real benefit to being with the Yard was queue-jumping the medical process like injured royalty. Neither Lucy nor himself would spend any time in waiting rooms.

But everything was happening too quickly for his drugged body to fully process. Craning his head, he saw only strangers.

"Wh-Where's Lucy?" His fingers gripped the sleeve of one of the nurses, but the material slipped away from him. He stared at the digits, numb and disconnected from his body and mind.

Fear clutched at him and in his panic, he tried to sit up. Gentle hands pushed him back into the stretcher.

"You're being treated for different things, dear," a calm voice replied. "She needs to see different doctors. You'll see her soon."

He didn't like that, but his words died the second he tried to summon them from his throat.

They arrived in a large room, where one doctor tended to the gunshot wound on his ear, whilst another focused on his right arm. The glass had been removed by medics on the way to the hospital, and after checking that there was none left and that the scratches had been disinfected, the second doctor applied a clean bandage that wound from his elbow down to his palm. Checking him for signs of concussion – had he hit his head? – she appeared satisfied that he would be okay.

"You're going to have a rough few weeks, but I can't see any signs of lasting damage," she explained. She handed him a glass of water and two painkillers. "Keep your excitement to a minimum, and you'll heal just fine."

Through his blurred vision, Alfendi tried to make out her name badge.

She noticed and smiled. "Doctor Wells." She extended her hand.

"Thank you," he murmured, shaking it weakly.

"Get some rest," she said. "Doctor's orders."

He didn't have much of a say in the matter as he was wheeled to his room (completely unnecessarily, Al thought, but Fendi had the sense to accept).

The painkillers kicked in as soon as his head touched the pillow, though he felt like he sank right through and was falling down and down.

* * *

He awoke from nothing with a gasp, hands gripping the sheets.

"Alfendi!"

The woman seated next to him jumped, her hand rising to her chest.

"Hilda?" he croaked, registering her blonde, wavy hair. "Hilda, what-"

"Hush," she ordered, and though her tone was sharp, her expression showed her concern. "I know you've never liked shutting up but give yourself a minute before you start babbling." Leaning forward, she rearranged his pillows before pushing him into them. Waiting a further few seconds, she was satisfied that he was listening. "It's currently half ten at night," she continued. "You arrived here at five. Doctors assessed your condition and you've somehow come out of this without lasting damage."

He remembered that much. Breathing in, he waited for the rest of his thoughts to unjumble. His ear throbbed – he'd been shot. His arm was heavy – there had been glass shards in it. His head was foggy – he'd fallen and hit it.

After he'd deduced those things, all the events came back to him at once. He tried to sit up but his head throbbed. "Lucy-"

"-is fine," Hilda interrupted. A smile caught the corner of her lips. "She's been asking about you too. You're much worse for wear than she is."

Hilda's answer eased his mind as much as it could, without actually seeing Lucy in person. He needed to know more. "What are her injuries like?"

"She was treated for her hand wound. It's nasty, but with time and rest it will heal. They've also checked her for potential poisoning, which-"

"Poisoning?" he spat.

"She was drugged when they captured her, Alfendi," Hilda replied. "As a precaution the doctors have taken a blood sample to make sure it was nothing bad."

"And the results?"

"The hospital hasn't returned them yet. However, it seems you're both well liked. One of your colleagues from the Yard – the small one, brown hair – ran her own test."

"Florence Sich?"

"Yes, that's the one. The results came back clean."

Nothing could have restrained his sigh of relief. If Florence had run the test, then he knew it would be reliable.

It was fine. It was fine.

As much as he longed to seek out Lucy's room, he knew that given the hour, she was probably in a much-needed slumber herself. Not to mention that even though he hadn't seen his reflection yet, she would be horrified by his condition. His hand reached up to touch the dressing on his ear, and he instantly recoiled as sharp pain shot through it.

"The bullet tore through some cartilage," Hilda said. "The doctor has told me that it shouldn't impact your hearing, but it won't look the same as it did before."

He didn't know what to say to that. His mind was too foggy to think about what this might mean for him in the future. He was about to thank Hilda, but when he looked at her face, he knew that there was more.

"Both of the thugs have also been admitted to hospital. The one that was shot, and the one with glass in her eyes."

"Carter and Briggs," he replied. "I didn't shoot Carter – neither did Lucy. He eventually turned on his partner and she shot him in retaliation. He was going to try to free us."

"Do you think Briggs is the head of the operation?"

"97.3% sure," Fendi replied automatically. "Is Carter okay?"

"He's come out of surgery, but it looks promising. The testimony from him, you and Lucy will be very valuable."

"I think he'll cooperate. His partnership with Briggs has been sour for a while, from what I could tell." Thinking about her caused spite to run through him. "And what of Briggs?"

"Handcuffed to a bed and heavily guarded. She's a spiteful thing, isn't she?"

Something stirred within him, and he swung his legs off the bed. It took all his effort not to wince. "I want to see her."

She sighed. "Alfendi-"

"It's my only chance, Hilda. After she's discharged from hospital, she'll be in custody, and given I'm now a victim in this case, there's no chance they'll let me question her then." He saw her firm expression and tried again. "Please. She hurt Lucy."

To everybody else in the world Hilda would have looked the same, but he knew her well enough to see that his bid had worked. Ever so slightly, her lips softened, and her piercing gaze lowering a fraction. "I'm well aware." She looked him over once before sighing. "You are too convincing for your own good, Alfendi. Follow me."

* * *

Hilda did him the favour of walking more slowly than usual to ensure he could keep pace. Regardless, his body ached, and he had to stop twice to rest.

Arriving at the room, Hilda waved to the guards and they stood aside. Turning to him, she nodded. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

Pushing the poor open, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the room, the only light source being the lines that had crept in from the gaps in the blinds.

Briggs was upright on the bed, as though she had been expecting somebody. A thick bandage was wound around her head, covering her eyes. She made no move when he closed the door.

"Greetings," she said. "To whom am I speaking?"

"Briggs," he replied, ignoring her second question.

"Oh, it's the inspector," she replied, amused. "Last I saw you looked pretty terrible. It's a shame I can't confirm that now."

"I look better than you."

"That's a low bar." Her teeth flashed as she grinned. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Alfendi couldn't answer right away. He learned against the wall to steady himself. It was a reasonable question for her to ask. He knew he wasn't here as an inspector of Scotland Yard – it had become much more personal than that.

Eventually, he knew what he wanted to say. "If I hadn't come," he began, "what would you have done?"

"Are you trying to prove to yourself that you were a hero?"

He ignored the dig. "I'm sure you want to tell me."

"You're right." She paused. "When your cop awoke, I was going to question her. I was going to establish how much the police knew about our operations, by any means necessary. Regardless, Carter and I would have left the town in the same day, in case the search party stumbled across our base."

"And what of Lucy?"

"That's something I'll keep to myself. I still have a trial, after all." She smiled back at him, and though he knew she couldn't see him, he felt as though he was being watched.

That told him all he needed to know, and she hadn't had to admit to a single thing.

Calm down. She's fine. She's okay. Fendi was talking to himself more than Al.

"Speaking of which, you look cheerful for somebody who is blinded and facing trial," he commented.

"It's exactly because of that – I still have a trial," she replied. "When you think of that, things are looking quite lovely for me. After all, I'm a suspect horrifically injured by a police officer. That same man committed arson, which I'm sure is against protocol." She laughed. "A good lawyer can do a lot with that. With Carter gone, it's the cops' word against mine. Oh, the things the public will say about you!"

"There is far more evidence against you," Al spat. "It won't be that easy."

"Won't it?" she asked, her voice sing-song. "This event will ruinyou. You'll probably lose your job. You and that girl will never be the same after this."

She wants you to be angry.

He knew that – both sides of him – but his fists balled, and he felt himself shaking. He longed to cause Briggs the same pain she'd caused him, but more importantly, the pain she'd caused-

Lucy.

I love you.

He remembered the moment they'd shared, she locked in the basement, he on the other side of the unbreakable door. His hand pushing against the metal, willing it to melt away as they both spoke assurances that things would be okay, even though their chances of success were slim.

Yet through trust and determination, they'd made it out of that basement and that blasted town. Despite being harmed, they would recover. Their position now was far better than he could have hoped or expected.

He took a step towards Briggs, Al allowing Fendi to come forward. "I've heard your version of the future. Now, listen to mine." Fendi paused, studying her face. He knew he had her attention. "In no more than a few days, Lucy and I will leave hospital. We'll take a few weeks off work – paid leave, thanks to you – and then we'll return. We'll re-enter our back-office, make a coffee and tackle whatever case is waiting for us. We'll solve it, then another, then another. We will continue our careers, and our lives, together. We'll meet other criminals, much more interesting than you, and while we won't forget you, I doubt we'll think of you often."

He leaned in close, knowing she would be able to feel his presence.

"But you?" Al said, scoffing. "You'll be handcuffed to this bed until you're well enough to be moved to custody. When your trial comes around, you will receive a sentence so long that you'll have wished your life had ended in that basement. Then you'll go to prison, likely the worst we have in the country for the crimes you've committed, and the world will keep spinning without you."

Briggs opened her mouth, her lips dry as she exhaled, before closing it.

His work was done, and he retreated. "Oh, and one more thing," he said, poised by the door. "I wouldn't be so sure about the lack of witnesses. Carter's alive, and given Lucy and I saved his life, I'm sure he won't mind putting in a word against you in the trial."

He heard the beginning of a shriek as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

"Cathartic?" Hilda asked as he shuffled down the hallway, fluorescent lights flickering above them.

"Yes."

"I'm impressed. I expected to hear much more yelling – that's what the old you would have done."

"I'm not the old me, and not only because of Fendi."

"Lucy?"

He hesitated a second before nodding.

"You two suit one another," she added. "She makes you a more tolerable person."

He smirked. "And you didn't?"

"No." Her tone was amused. "I think part of me enjoyed our arguments too much. Lucy will actually scold you for being ridiculous."

Talking about Lucy had lifted his spirits, but he felt a pang of longing.

They'd reached his room, and when he pushed the door open, his jaw dropped.

Lucy was sitting atop his bed.

His eyes took her in all at once. Her hair was damp and combed, and she wore a thick robe that seemed to engulf her. She was pale and exhausted, her eyes drooping. Her hand had been bandaged, but that was the only sign of injury.

At the sound of his entrance her head snapped up. She stared back at him, and her lips trembled. "A-Alfendi."

He staggered towards her, still in disbelief as he pulled her into a hug. Ignoring his aching body, he took a moment to appreciate the warmth of her body against his, the smell of her hair, the sound of her breathing.

Hilda had been right. She was okay.

Releasing her slightly, he stared down at her face, and she smiled back up at him.

The door closed behind them as Hilda gave them some privacy.

Wordless, they sat atop his bed. Lucy's hand cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his face. Her fingers ran over his stubble but stopped before she reached his ear. He watched as she studied it a moment, and despite himself, a spike of anxiety hit him, because he cared what she thought about it.

When she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss upon his bandage, he released a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding in.

When she drew back, she didn't meet his eyes, and he knew why.

"It wasn't your fault, Lucy," he murmured.

She still didn't look up. "I made a choice, and it got you hurt."

"You made a choice, and got a criminal arrested," he replied. "You fulfilled your duty. I also made a choice to come and find you."

"You had to."

"Of course, because I love you."

"P-Prof…" Her eyes had filled with tears, and she shook her head. "I never wanted you t'get hurt. When you fell down the stairs, I didn't think you'd make it out, a-and…"

As she choked on her works, he pulled her into his chest, resting his lips atop her head.

The ordeal had been harrowing. It had been excruciating for him to walk down the basement stairs and witness Briggs grabbing Lucy by her hair as she bled from her hand. How awful had it been for Lucy, to see him shot and pulled down the stairs, left fighting for his life?

"We're both here, Lucy," he reminded her. "Here and well. Briggs will go to prison, because of the evidence you found. In a few days we'll both go home. In a few weeks my arm will be healed, and so will your hand, and not long after my ear will be as good as it can be. We'll have some time off work. Perhaps we'll go away somewhere – we're both long overdue for a holiday."

She sniffed, looking up. "Dropstone sounds nice, Prof. Your dad's stories have made me want to go."

"Then we'll go to Dropstone."

She grinned up at him. "So it takes a hospital visit to get you to agree to a holiday?"

He smiled. "Perhaps."

She laughed, and holding his face gently, she kissed him. Her lips were warm and soft, and as he reciprocated, he realised how much he'd longed for her. Pulling her closer, the day's turmoil faded. As one of her hands rubbed the back of his neck, he was lost in his senses, as though he hadn't experienced Lucy in years.

"Ahem."

Startled, he pulled back, Doctor Wells standing in the doorway. Lucy let out a surprised gasp, before a nervous giggle.

"You appear to be feeling better," she commented, smiling.

Al chose that moment to relinquish all control, leaving an awkward Fendi behind. He scratched the back of his neck. "Ah, I'm-"

"Not to worry. It's a good sign, really." She turned her attention to Lucy. "Your test results have come back clean, Lucy. As long as you avoid using your hand for a few weeks and finish your round of antibiotics, you have nothing to worry about."

"Ta, Doctor," she replied, beaming.

"We're happy to discharge you both tomorrow, as long as you're feeling well enough. For the moment however, I'd recommend you get some more rest."

He couldn't help but agree. Now that he'd spoken with Briggs and seen that Lucy was alright, fatigue had begun to creep back into him.

Lucy appeared to be the same, as she stifled a yawn. Still, she fiddled with her hands, nervous. "Ee, Doctor?"

"Yes?" Doctor Wells replied, scribbling something on her chart.

"I… well, given I weren't been monitored by any machines in my room, d'you think I might be able to stay here for the night?" Her faced reddened. "Just for sleeping, of course!"

"I see no reason why not. You might be able to stop him from wandering around the hospital."

He liked Doctor Wells.

"Call a nurse if you need anything," she continued. "I'll let them know about your room change. I'll be back tomorrow to check how you're doing."

"Thank you," Alfendi said, nodding.

As she left the room and turned out the light, he and Lucy pulled the covers up. Lying on his side to ensure that his ear would not be affected, Lucy held him from behind, her head resting in the crook of his neck. Her rhythmic breathing relaxed him.

"Alfendi?" she whispered, as he was on the cusp of sleep.

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

His hand fumbled to find her own, fingers loosely entwining.

"Always, Lucy. Always."


End file.
